


Alternian Rock

by Dragonnova



Series: Alternian Rock [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Death, Emotional Abuse, Violence, mental conditioning/brainwashing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-06 04:58:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonnova/pseuds/Dragonnova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternia is a brutal world filled with trolls that care only about themselves and the color of their blood.  There is no pity beyond the quadrants and love is a word that has long since been lost to the ages.  Music is forbidden and you would be wise to pick your words carefully in mixed company.  Stay in line, do as you're told, don't rock the boat. 'All hail the Empress, glory to the empire, praise to the Grand High Blood and his wisdom' </p><p>No.</p><p>The Signless will change the world with his song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aewin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aewin/gifts), [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Alternian Rock is basically a retelling of The Signless' story, except instead of preaching he formed an indie rock band.
> 
> Thank you so much to Aewin for fixing all the horrible mistakes I made in the rough draft. (You didn't know you were editing your own gift did you? :P )

Your name is Porrim Maryam, and you have the great honor of spending every waking moment of your life attending to the needs of the Mother Grub deep within the brooding caverns.

The drones have just dropped off a supply of the Mother Grub's favorite food. She's been depressed lately; hopefully this will help perk her up.

You catch a glimpse of the surface while you're there picking it up; the moons are both full and bright and a ribbon of stars twinkle just out of reach. It's wonderful seeing the sky after so long in the dark. But then one of the drones gives you _that look_ and his claws tighten on his culling fork. You quickly take one of the gifts they brought and make sure to keep your head low and hurry back to work after that.

It's impossible to carry it all on your own. You make a trip through the winding labyrinth of caverns and recruit some of the other girls to come help you along the way. They help - grudgingly, but at least they help.

Thankfully this is the last bit of it. Your shoulders are starting to ache and your feet already feel as though they're going to blister. But despite a few sore toes and a couple stiff joints you're actually in rather high spirits. Some of the girls catch you singing and try to shush you, but you'll have none of it.

What do you care about all the silly rules about banned music and literature? So you're singing about finding somebody to love, _**so**_? The Grand High Blood made those silly rules and he is neither Mother Grub nor Her Imperious Condescension. Just because he has his brightly colored clown bloomers in a knot over certain forms of music and poetry doesn't mean he's going to magically know you were 'sinning' and seek you out in order to smite you for it. Besides, there are few pleasures for you down here, so when you feel this happy you can't help it when it just bubbles up. Your only release is a silly tune that spills from your lips.

Admittedly, you also adore the acoustics of the caverns. They make your humble, quiet voice sound unfamiliar and beautiful to your ears.

A tiny noise catches your attention, and you slow your pace to listen. You can make out the faint scratching sound of claws scrabbling for purchase on stone as well as the scatter of loose gravel as something moves closer in the darkness.

You come to a complete stop and your song drops to a quieter level, but you don't stop singing. If you act frightened at all, the Lusii that dwell down here will think you are easy prey. You're not sure what could be following you, but you have to be careful.

“Oh, please do not be a crab, those horrible cantankerous grub-less idiots,” You say aloud in a sing-song tone, hopefully masking your fears. That particular species of Lusus does not take kindly to anyone. They are ornery to the core and you have yet to see one of those monsters take on a wriggler.

You drop the parcel you're carrying and turn suddenly, letting loose a ferocious snarl.

If nothing else you have gloriously frightening fangs. Usually it only takes a flash of teeth and claws and nobody dares to bother you again; there is always a bit of irrational fear when meeting a rainbow drinker, after all.

A startled little grub stares back at you with impossibly wide yellow eyes, frozen in place with his mouth hanging slack. He comes to his senses and arches on the tips of his claws before scrambling backwards away from the glow of your cast light.

Well - you've certainly traumatized the little thing into not liking adults. You're going to cause him to become a feral troll if the little one doesn't trust adults at all - that is _if_ the little grub even makes it out of the caverns alive.

A pang of guilt and worry suddenly clutches your chest and for some reason this startles you.

“I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to scare you,” you call to him, hunching down and hugging your knees while making little cooing noises to try to coax the little one back out.

_What are you doing?_

You really shouldn't talk to it, you should just turn and leave. As one of the attendants to the Mother Grub you are not to interfere with the wrigglers as they make their way through the caverns.

If they die, they die. That is just how things are.

You're about to give up trying to call him back out. It's a good thing, too. It was silly of you to even talk to the little thing, let alone try to call it to you.

A movement in the shadows catches your attention once more, and you see the faint shine of a tiny eye in the dark.

The little grub is hiding behind a small rock, peeking at you from under a wild mess of fluff that nearly obscures the nubby little tips of his horns. He's absolutely tiny. You've never seen such a small grub. It's certainly not a good sign for his future.

You feel _something_ twisting in your chest again, your blood-pusher hammering away and leaving you completely confused.

“You scared me, little one. I thought you were going to eat me,” you say with a stupid grin on your face. You reach out your hand and click your fingers at him, calling him closer.

He toddles out into the light of your glow, drawing near to you. Your blood-pusher just about melts when he stretches out those small front claws and playfully tilts his head to stick out his tiny tongue at you. He's turning on charm that should not be legal on any planet.

You sigh with mock exasperation. “Now - you need to hurry along. You're almost out, little one. There will be a lusus waiting for you near the opening. Don't keep them waiting too long.”

The tiny grub blinks up at you, not making any motion to leave.

You wave your hand in his direction, making little 'shooing' noises. “Hurry now, go find your Lusus.”

He finally lowers his eyes, backing away slowly.

That defeated expression on his face shouldn't be as heart-wrenching as it is. Perhaps you are getting ill? You certainly feel a strange uneasy mixture of hot and cold racing through your blood as you watch him go.

You finally pull yourself up onto to your feet and gather up the package of food you dropped. A terribly suffocating feeling of loneliness creeps over you as you try to gather yourself together and get back to work.

_Get up and carry on like always_.

But you can't get him out of your mind and it leaves you feeling lost and alone.

The only thing you can think to do is to try and recall some of the happiness you were feeling earlier. Sing again - it always makes you feel so much better when you sing.

Dust yourself off, pick back up the song, and just carry on like always. Perhaps this feeling will pass in a few moments and you can be happy again.

Maybe...

So you sing, but the tune is tainted with the feelings you were trying to push back. You can hear the edge of tears echoing off the cavern's walls back to you. Why? Why are you feeling like this now of all times? Perhaps it's just your wanderlust trying to kick in again. The monotony is killing you slowly down here.

You've always wished for something more. Something important in your life. No, something more important _than_ life. You need someone special to love more than anything in this dreary world.

No. You are important to the Mother Grub. She depends on you. She is all you need.

_But_ _**he** _ _was so tiny._

It's not as though you haven't seen grubs that would never make it.

_He was so helpless._

You have walked through the blood of slain grubs. Your shoes are dyed rainbow hues that have now muddied into an indistinguishable brown. The death of the weak and the helpless is nothing new, especially in this world.

You shouldn't feel anything for him.

That adorable charming little grub that wiggled into your thoughts and fits so perfectly is –

he is -

He is still following you.

You turn as soon as you hear that same little scuffle of claws on stone. You catch him just in time to see him arch again, top fluff fuzzing up in every direction, eyes wide again as tries to scramble back the direction he came.

“Do not think for one second that I do not see you following me, wriggler. What in the name of the Mother is wrong with you? Do not follow me, I am taking you right back to the place you fought so hard to get away from.”

He just hunkers down and stares at you.

“Go on now. You're so close to getting out. Go on.” You point back up the cavern, hoping he at least takes the visual cue to leave.

Instead of listening to you, he slowly ambles over, then scrambles clumsily up into the little crater near you.

You finally notice he's not moving very fast, and he's favoring one of his legs.

“Oh.” You breathe the word. “Oh I see.”

You set down the parcel of food again and crouch down next to the little crater that he's nestling himself into. Perhaps he's given up, and just wants someplace where he feels safe to wait for the end.

 "Let me see, little one.” You reach for his leg and he flops over and lets you look over his injury.

He's a little rust blood; you can tell by the ruddy hue of his thorax. He might be low on the hemospectrum, but he certainly is a fighter. Such a tiny little grub fought his way through all the trials and is now willing to walk through them a second time following you. Luckily, it's not really a bad injury at all, just a cut that's already trying to heal over. Still, it probably hurts pretty badly. He certainly is a determined little scrapper.

“This is not so bad, why are you not going on? Why are you following me?” You're puzzled over his situation. You thought for sure he was badly wounded and giving up, but this wasn't the case at all.

Your thoughts are interrupted when he starts to purr at you. Not surprising, really. You expected him to start his little engines the moment you began running your claws through that mess of tangled hair on his head. But then you notice that his purring sounds more like humming, familiar humming. He's trying so hard to hum the song you were singing.

“So, you liked my song?” You're bewildered that _anyone_ could possibly like hearing _you_ sing. “That couldn't possibly be the reason you followed me.”

He answers by doing that adorable roll, head-tilt, tongue-biting thing again, but this time with a silly little grin plastered on his face. He couldn't have said “Yes, it is,” any plainer.

“You perfect little idiot,” you scold him but he just wiggles all over, “and that is not playing fair, stop it. That is illegal levels of adorable.”

His hair ruffles and he makes a lazy attempt at arching his back and growling at you.

“O-o-oh, mean! Mean little grub,” You poke his side, careful of his cut leg, and he flops over and makes a few happy little chirps. “Excuse me, Mr. Adorabloodthirsty!” You continue to tease him.

He doesn't care; he's making the flirty half-lidded eyes and waving a little claw at you. You gather him up, holding him to your chest as you nestle into a craggy outcropping of the cave. “Very well, I'll sit with you for a while, but that is all. They shouldn't come looking for me until I've been missing for quite some time.”

It is the strangest, loveliest feeling to hold such a warm little bundle of life so close. To listen to the content little chirrs he makes when you begin singing to him. If you thought you were happy before, oh, you were so wrong. You feel as though you have not known true happiness until this very moment. Until you dropped all sane thought at the door and reached out and touched this bright little sun.

_That's_ what it is.

That is exactly what he feels like. He gives you the same feeling you had when you felt the sun on your face so long ago. It was warmth that spread clear through to your core when you got to see the day sky and feel the warm touch of light.

Holding this little grub is that same warmth and the same happiness you got from seeing the surface, except this feeling right now while holding him close is nearly ten-thousand times more powerful.

It doesn't take long before he's asleep, snuggled into the crook of your arm as you gently scratch your claw behind his ear. You'll have to give him up soon and that fact makes you terribly sad. You have to let him go so he can find his lusus, and live the life he was destined for.

What kind of troll will he grow to become? He has so muchpotential; he's certainly a brave little fighter. You can't help the excitement stirring up inside as you ponder all the possibilities resting in your arms. Oh, you wish you could teach him everything you know and be there to see him through his life.

Is this what it feels like for a lusus? Do they feel this overwhelming happiness to think of all the endless possibilities this small life in their arms holds for the future?

He can change the world if he chooses to.

You brush your hand over his leg. It's started bleeding a little again; he must have opened the cut while he was wiggling around like that. Thankfully, it isn't bleeding much, but it's enough to worry you. It may not be a crippling wound, but it could still get infected. You want to do something to help him, but what could you possibly do?

The best think you can think of to do is to wrap it and stop the bleeding. Hopefully that will keep him from opening it again. It's not the best option, but it's all you can do with your limited resources.

You reach to the hem of your dress, using your claws to shred off a strip of material, then you will yourself to glow a bit brighter so you can see clearly.

  _ **Red.**_

You brush your hand over the cut lightly, and he squirms uncomfortably in his sleep from the touch. You hold the tip of your finger closer. You can barely believe the color. Your fingertips are stained the brightest red you have ever seen. This is certainly not the natural color of a rust blood at all. It's far too bright, but it is the most beautiful color you have ever seen.

A thought crosses your mind and suddenly you feel a cold knot twisting your insides.

You had been so young when they brought you to the caverns to be an attendant. They spent so many perigees training you and the other new girls. During this time they drilled numerous rules involving the rules and regulations of becoming an attendant into you. Some of those rules involved the grubs.

You were to ignore the grubs. Live or die, they were not any concern to you.

_Except in one case._

If you ever found a mutant grub, you were to cull it immediately.

They had called it a 'mercy culling', because mutant grubs couldn't possibly live above ground. Even if they were to make it through the cavern trials to the surface, a lusus would never accept them. They would die a slow and painful death on the surface.

Your little grub would never be accepted by anyone. He would die alone and frightened. Eaten by scavengers or culled by a drone or another attendant.

He was doomed to death before he even hatched.

Your strong, adorable little grub; the only living being that loves to hear you sing.

Your little ball of sunlight that chased away the darkness - _will die_.

Your beautiful little grub.

He's _**your**_ little grub.

You finally found someone to love and the entire world is telling you he needs to die.

_**No.** _

Your little grub will _live_ , or you will both die together.

You run with him,and you never stop running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept hearing "Somebody to Love" by Queen in my head while writing up this prologue.


	2. Survival: Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A really huge thank you to Aewin again for looking over my chapter and helping me fix the grammar issues. I'm so sorry I keep making you beta your gift, LOL.

To the East there is a small port town - well, calling it a port town is a joke; if you were to blink while passing through on the back of a hoofbeast, you would miss it entirely. It is nothing more than a little fishing village, founded by a handful of poor lowbloods with no other way to survive than to fish and to hope that traders will come by on their way to the larger city port further up north. The only reason this little village even shows up on any Alternian map is because a school-hive was built nearby, secluded by trees and jutting hills that didn’t quite fit the height requirement to be called mountains.

Sounds strange, doesn’t it?

Normally, a school would be an odd thing to build, considering young trolls usually stay home with their Lusii and receive their school feedings through their husktops. Building a school-hive anywhere is just strange. However, there is a legitimate excuse in place for building this one. That excuse being that this place is special; it is an institution for the unusually gifted.

Rumor has it that young trolls strive to be accepted to this institution. Not many make the cut, but those that do come here from all corners of the planet to be trained for the greater good. They come for the best knowledge that can be supplied to them, to make a positive impact on the world, to work towards a wondrous future and the expansion of her Imperial Condescension’s glorious empire. They are raised to be heroes and revered by all.

This, of course, is a veil of lies.

Your name is Mituna Captor, and you are the most powerful five-sweep-old psionic in the world. Actually, you've been told that your skills have far surpassed psionic trolls three times your age, which really is a rather impressive claim.

_Be proud of yourself, little wiggler._

That is what they tell you every day. They also tell you to not cross that fence or your head will explode off your shoulders. You’re not really sure which one they say with more glee. You think it’s the head explosion part.

You are not proud. You wish you had been hatched 'normal'. Life is not fair to anyone; you know many trolls have it pretty bad and there are others who have it even worse - but that doesn’t soften your pain. Just because someone else can look at you and say ‘at least you’re not dead’ doesn’t make you feel any better about your current situation.

You don’t believe in fairy tales. You’ve never deluded yourself into believing in the hope that something magical will happen to change your course. The suffocating weight of an invisible doom has lingered over your head and followed you from the time you were hatched, and it will continue to nip at your heels until the day you die. But that is life. Life is pain. So you carry on.

Yet, despite all your efforts to find contentment in your current situation, to not give in to hope, you still find yourself wishing you could somehow change your fate -

Oops.

You need to put the brakes on this train of thought really quickly or you're going to catch it in the butt.

Wait – nope.

Too late, you're going to catch it no matter what you do now. Your 'Educator' is giving you that look – patented trademark of The Educator.

You know, the look that says, 'When we get back your butt is mine. I will slap you so hard your ancestors will feel it and your butt will fall clean off.’

Yeah, that look.

You quickly smile and start thinking 'all hail the empress', to which Educator snorts sarcastically - and then realizes what he has done.

You are a lowly yellow-blooded wiggler, and Educator is considerably higher than you on the spectrum, but your company is unlike any troll you have ever laid eyes upon. Needless to say you need to keep your wits about you and be polite, and Educator needs to refrain from snorting in the presence of a noble. He excuses himself weakly, turning his all-knowing eyes from you and giving that monstrously huge high-blooded sea troll his full attention again.

The Educator, as they have titled him and just about any ‘handler’ at the institution, is also a psionic troll, but his powers are different than yours. He possesses the uncanny ability to use psionics to read a troll’s emotions while he’s looking at them. The more unbalanced their emotions become, the better he can read them.

He must have been able to read you quite well for some time now; you've been fighting your nervousness and fear back down by feeding on bitterness and anger instead, the perfect mixture of tumultuous feelings.

Psionics weren't even supposed to work like that! All you can do is telekinetic and technical things with your powers. How?! How does he even do that?

Better question - why can't he teach you to do that? They call him The Educator, so why can’t he educate you? You’ve asked him about it once before, but he held you upside down and dunked your head in a load gaper for it. He finally said something about certain combinations of aspects, whatever that means, and that psionic powers don’t necessarily mean ‘the same’ powers.

It's not like it matters that much, so you never really bothered to care beyond a nasty bit of jealousy.

You are quite jealous of his psionic power, though. You glance up at the sea-troll again; he’s positively frightening and fascinating at the same time. It leaves you with this unsettled feeling and you kind of wish you could know what he’s thinking in order to ease that tingling doom feeling looming over you. The sea troll is strange, and you can’t help but wonder if even Educator knows what’s beneath the other troll’s surface.

 

Honestly, you’ve had enough excitement for today. You just want to go back to your block; which is strange, because you can count on one hand the number of times you've been allowed to venture past the institution gate into the village. Normally, you'd be ecstatic to get out and see something new - but not today.

You’ve felt apprehensive since you woke up. You tried to talk Educator out of the assignment that was handed down to him, to both of you. You wanted to cut and run the moment you caught sight of the ship at the docks. Your stomach dropped the instant you stepped on the ramp, you wanted to hurl your guts across the deck when you set foot upon it, and now you just want to find a dark little hole where you can curl up and never be found again.

That boneless feeling in your legs and the teetering of the ship - Stop thinking about it, Mituna, if you think about the way the ship is rocking you're going to throw up on the high-blood and then who knows what will happen to you and Educator.

Good grief, that sea troll is huge, isn’t he? Nice change of subject, Mituna.

You carefully eye him up and down. If you’re honest about it, he could be considered really handsome, but life must have gotten jealous and beat him with the ugly battle-scar stick to make up for it. Every patch of visible skin is covered in scars, but the two jagged long ones along his face are by far the most noticeable. It makes him look terribly world worn and a bit badass. You’re not sure if you should be frightened or really impressed. That scowl on his face isn’t helping his looks, either. If looks could kill, everyone on his ship would probably be dead twice over.

You can feel Educator boring a hole in the side of your head with his all-knowing death glare and you flinch, “I-I'm a good troll,” you suddenly chirp and bite your lip, bracing yourself for the usual back of the head smack that comes with that glare.

The sea-troll guffaws, slapping your teacher on the shoulder “You trained the little wiggler to parrot you. That's bloody adorable.”

Wait - They were talking about you?

You’ve been so busy getting lost in your own think pan; you hadn’t noticed what they were talking about. Is that why you’re here? Is that why you’ve been feeling this steady increase of dread all evening? It would make sense, you’re always getting handed the dirty end of the stick. Of course they were talking about you. You’re the most powerful psionic left on Alternia; you're just a thing that will end up being sold off to the highest bidder.

Is that what’s happening?

Why now?

Educator doesn’t have the clearance to sell you to anyone; in fact you still have a lot of training to undergo before you can become a fully integrated helmsman for anyone. Besides, this is a stupid wooden boat, not a starship.

The two of you were sent down here to extend a ‘warm and courteous’ welcome from the Institution to the high-blood that had deemed to bless this village with his presence. Of course this cheerful greeting is a farce – the same way this silly little fishing village with a school-hive for gifted trolls was just a cover. You may be young, but you are not stupid when it comes to political agendas.

What looks to the common people to be a small fishing village near a school is actually a facility to raise powerful psionics to helm Her Imperious Condescension fleets if they’re powerful enough. The ones with less ability are sold and used as weapons of mass destruction. There aren’t that many of you, especially those of high level ability suitable for helmsmen. You know your fate, even if you try to forget it.

So, this friendly little display is more like reconnaissance to scope out a potential threat and eradicate it if need be in order to protect the assets. High-blood or no, your orders come from the highest. They sent the two of you out to the ship as a friendly greeting wrapped around a deadly threat. Welcome, high-blood, now be gone or get a hole where your bloodpusher should be.

You were trained to use your powers in various ways, and your teacher is heartless. They sent you because they knew the two of you could deflect any potential danger with ease.

You expect the boot to drop any moment. The greeting will cease and then Educator will tell him to leave and never look back; any moment, now – any moment.

They’re laughing over some stupid sailing joke.

This is not at all what you expected. This is actually freaking you out. They’re seriously talking about you like he's a potential buyer. You really don’t like this. There is something fishy going on, and that was not a pun.

“So, what's with the collar?” The sea troll asks as he reaches out and tugs on the collar around your neck.

You let out the tiniest exasperated sigh before you can stop it, but then you obediently tilt your head back and let him look at it. You can’t exactly say 'get away' or 'don't touch me'. You can’t do anything until Educator tells you; especially not to someone of this guy’s caste. If the color of those sheer ear fins is any indication, he is borderline royalty. Maybe that’s why Educator isn’t fighting him? Maybe you are about to get sold off.

Crap, you’re nearly growling.

You want to bite him, to claw his eyes out, anything to get him away from you. You really don’t want him knowing anything about your collar, your one weakness.

“Without going into too many technical details, the collars displace the telekinetic flow of energies within a psionic. If one steps out of line, their powers can be completely cut off with the push of a button. When this child is not hooked up to the system, we have to put a collar on him to limit his abilities and ensure he does not do anything destructive during his training. Generally it is used for conditioning and reprimanding unwanted actions in psionic trolls. We have to use it as a limiter on him, because of the massive amount of power he wields,” Educator says. His eyes soften when he looks at you, something you’re definitely not used to seeing. “Not that he's ever done anything to warrant such a punishment.”

“So, all of you need this inhibitor?” The sea troll casts a sideways glance at Educator but still keeps his hand on your collar.

Educator hooks a finger into his turtle neck and pulls it down to reveal the collar he has to wear, “My powers are nowhere near as strong as the child’s, so my collar is strictly for disciplinary actions and does not inhibit my abilities.”

You completely forget about the fact that the sea troll still has a finger hooked in your collar; you are staring slack-jawed at Educator. He is offering way more information than he has any business telling a complete stranger, high-blood or not. The superiors are not going to like this - not at all.

“And what exactly are your powers?” The sea troll sneers up at your teacher, obviously sensing the underlying threat, and tugs your collar just enough to make you lose your balance and grab his wrist to keep from falling over like an idiot.

“I'm empathic, among other things,” Educator replies, but he has that edgy snarl to his voice that says ‘I'm watching you, so just try something.'

The sea troll finally lets go of your collar, patting you on the cheek a bit roughly. “So, I shall be frank with you. The freaky colored ghost eyes your kind have are a bit on the disturbing side, however, I know that is just how you are and I think it can be overlooked. I don’t know though,” He runs a finger down the larger of your right horns and you can’t help but step back away from him before you can stop yourself.

Your control only goes so far and that crossed the line. You keep your eyes down and your feet firmly planted. It’s taking every ounce of will power you have to stay rooted and not bolt back out of the room.

The sea-troll lets out a disapproving grunt and straightens back up to face Educator, “This odd double mutation he has is a bit off-putting.”

You'd think you'd get used to the sting, but it never really goes away. You did however learn rather quickly not to let anyone know the insults and comments about your horns and eyes hurt. If you let them know it bothers you, it only makes it worse.

“He is perfectly normal,” Educator angrily snarls. Your teacher - your icy, hard edged, emotionless teacher snarled over you.

The sea troll laughs. “I fear we have completely different views on what is normal, sir.” You feel yourself slump. He must have seen it too. “Perhaps, we should talk elsewhere?” he asks.

“Yes, captain Dualscar,” Educator responds, stepping back from the doorway and motioning for him to exit first.

Dualscar lays a heavy hand between your horns and ruffles your hair out of place. This time you don’t flinch away from him. “Stay put, short-stuff, the grown-ups need to talk.”

You watch them both go, pondering the strange change in Dualscar’s speech. You suddenly catch your teacher pointing at you just before the door closes behind him. It has always been his way of telling you to stay and not get into anything. Which you are more than willing to do; it isn’t like you care what is in this fishy smelling dank hole -

O-O-oh crap, there's a piano.

An honest-to-God - piano.

A REAL PIANO.

This is not some silly app on a screen that lets you pretend you’re playing a piano when Educator gives in to his slightly less prickly side and lets you do something other than training for your doomed fate. This is a real piano!

You're not even sure how you got over here. You're sitting on the bench running your hands over the keys barely touching them, ghosting the pads of your fingers over the cool surface reverently.

Its actual one-hornbeast keys! This piano must be so old, and so illegal. A tingling thrill races up your spine at the thought of touching something rare such as this.

The few instruments that are allowed to exist today are made from metals and plastics, usually things like hideous horns and odd xylophones. Traditional music from before the ban is generally frowned upon, unless it is blessed by the Grand High Blood or some crap like that. Plus, it is illegal to hunt or even own any materials from the one-hornbeasts now that they are nearly extinct. So that means this piano is priceless, and also so illegal to own that the offence is punishable by hanging from a flogging jut until the featherbeasts have picked you clean.

You cast a wary glance at the door, listening for any movement outside.

Do not play this piano.

You can be culled just for breathing on it.

The sound is beautiful.

Electronic keyboards never sounded like this. It is perfectly in tune, impeccably well kept; it is the most wonderful thing you have ever laid hands on. The thing that fascinates you the most is the feel and weight of the keys. There has to be more force applied to get the notes to sound, it gives the keyboard more substance than just lightly tapping fingers across the outlines of illuminated keys.

What are you even playing?

You don’t know; you don’t even care what it is. The song is beautiful and this is the closest you have been to blissful happiness in your entire short and pathetic little life.

“Well, that's certainly impressive talent, Tiny,” Dualscar says about five inches from your ear.

The most embarrassing, undignified chirp rips its way from your lips as you flail backwards. You would have probably scorched the entire room with a psionic blast, but the collar doubles the power in on you and gives you a disciplinary zap and a headache to match. You fall off the bench and just stay there sprawled across the floor, covering your face with your hands and moaning pitifully.

Dualscar is having a grand time laughing his fins off at you.

There’s an overwhelming feeling of rage, the likes of which you have never known, that floods your senses and clouds your mind - but you kind of asked for this. You knew you shouldn't have touched the piano, but you did it anyway.

Be smart about this, Mituna; consider this the punishment for doing what you weren't supposed to do. There's always a punishment, always. This is probably just the beginning of your punishment. You are certainly going to catch it when you get back to your teacher. They must have heard you and this is why Dualscar came to torment you.

“Here, Short-Stuff,” Dualscar says and scoops you up under the arms and moves to put you back on the piano bench. You tense up so hard you think you might pull a muscle out of place.  
“Go on now, play something,” he says.

You shake your head ‘no’, pretty violently, and then you freeze because – well - you just told a violet blood no.

Good bye short life, you were nasty and cruel but you were gone too soon. It would have been nice to make it to six sweeps.

Dualscar is still chuckling like he thinks this is the best damn joke he's ever heard, “You're killin’ me, Smalls. I'm not gonna eat you, just play something.”

You stare at him, chewing nervously on your lip. He doesn’t sound at all like the scary high-blood he was portraying himself as at first.

“Speak your mind, kid, I'm not going to hold it against you,” Dualscar says, nearly growling.

“It's illegal,” you whisper, choosing to not bring up his odd behavior and focus on the music instead.

“This piano is illegal, guppie. So’s that music you were just playin’. And you know what - so am I. Whoop-di-flippin’-do! Now make with the twinkly fingers!” Dualscar says, and you begin to wonder why you were ever afraid of him.

You nod slowly, but hesitate, “W-what do-” you stutter and instantly regret it – you thought he was scary before when he glared, but that was nothing compared to this. “What do you mean, so are you?”

“Little bit of a lisp there, kid,” Dualscar says, a sort of disapproving hum in his voice, like he just saw a flaw on one of those ridiculous rings he has all over his hands.

You lower you gaze and fight the warm flush lighting up your cheeks. You stare at your hands in your lap, hoping he doesn’t see the flush and reprimand you for this as well. You’ve never really noticed that you lisp. Nobody had ever pointed that one out to you because you really never talk to anyone except Educator; you’re going to have to learn to control it – somehow.

“Well – some I suppose would call me a pirate. I prefer ‘free-lance knight in service of our beautiful empress’. I am perfectly willing to do whatever needs to be done in order to further her will, things that other trolls are too cowardly to even attempt. The only thanks I could hope for would be to perhaps someday see a beautiful smile on her lovely face. That would be all I need,” Dualscar says while staring dreamily over at his desk, where a small ornately framed image of the empress sits in what appears to be a shrine.

“You hope the empress notices you and swoons dramatically while saying take me now big strong pirate,” you mutter.

“You're a smart mouthed little monkey, aren't you?” Dualscar snaps, but his tone sounds amused.

“I'm sorry,” you automatically respond, quickly casting your eyes down again to where you are nervously wringing your hands.

“Cayden didn't exactly beat the fire out of you; which might be a good thing. I think a troll loses some of their power if they're completely broken in,” Dualscar says.

You feel a bit of that unfathomable hate stirring up again, not only had he used Educator’s given name like he knew him personally, he’s talking about you again like you’re some young hoofbeast at the market. You bite the inside of your cheek, drawing blood, trying to calm back down. You have no place to be angry. That's pretty much all you are to the high-bloods - an animal, a possession.

You suddenly feel a light sting radiating across your nose, drawing you back out of your thoughts - did he seriously just flick you?

“Wow you get lost in that head often, don’t you?” He doesn’t give you a chance to reply. “Yeah, I guess you're right, squirt. I think I could die happy if I could be blessed enough to have someone as great as her in my flushed quadrant.” He squeezes your shoulder as he speaks. “Honest truth though; I would be happy with just a smile from her, that would be enough for me. ‘Course, until then, I don't mind pickin’ up a few rewards on the side! I see something I want, then I'd say I pretty much deserve a few perks with all the good deeds I go around doin’. If that makes me a pirate, well, guilty as charged.”

Horror-Terrors take your soul; did he just possessively pat your hip? The touching really needs to stop now - right now. The touching; it will stop.

“Weren’t you going to play something for me?” Dualscar finally asks after a moment of dreamily staring off at his shrine. He’s got a shark-like grin on his face as he stares down at you. Clearly he saw you glaring daggers at his offending hand, because he pats you again to accentuate his words. “Come on. Let's hear it.”

You hesitate a moment longer but then decide you may as well give in and enjoy it while you can. Except maybe you should tone it down a bit this time, something the GHB wouldn't snap your head off for - not that he would know, but it still sets your mind at ease to know your music choice would be less offensive to his ears.

The melody is tame, mellow; you expected it to have a heavy depressing sound when you first read the sheet music some time ago, but now that you’re playing it out loud, on the instrument it was originally meant for, it’s hauntingly beautiful.

“Here, kiddo. Let me get this,” Dualscar says, and that is the only warning you get before he lifts you up by your armpits again and scoots himself further onto the bench before depositing you on his lap. “You're too tiny to reach the pedals, Squirt. So play like you were and I'll get that for you.”

“What?” You have no clue what he’s on about. “What pedals?”

“Look,” he reaches around you and presses a key, then he presses one of the pedals down and taps the same key again; the note is so much louder than before. “Fortissimo.”

He presses another pedal and key, but this time the tone has been dampened. “Pianissimo.”

“I didn't know that's what that meant. The keyboard I used didn't have any options like that.” You can’t help the little hint of awe in your voice; you love this instrument so much.

“Yeah, yeah, ff and pp, loud-soft, whatever; keep playing,” he says.

So you continue to play, amazed at the difference in the sound now that accurate pedal work is being applied. You totally forget that you’re not exactly comfortable with sitting on, well, anyone, but especially this sea troll. The only thing that matters now is the music.

“Wait, wait, do you know What Do You Do with a Drunken Sea Troll?” Dualscar asks.

“That's definitely banned,” You say.

“AND I'M A BLOODY PIRATE DO I LOOK LIKE I CARE!?” He bellows in response.

You can’t help the giggle that bubbles up. “I think I read it once, yeah,” You say and then start playing the tune.

“Wait just a second, you mean you've read the sheet music once, and you can play it?” Dualscar says, sounding truly impressed, and for some reason you feel a swell of pride knowing you impressed him. “Wow, kid.”

He sits there quietly for a bit listening to you play, and you honestly start to wonder if maybe your first impression of him was all wrong. That weird fluttery hate feels odd and misplaced now. He is a bit of a douche, but he isn’t all bad.

Something still doesn’t feel right, though. You kind of thought it might be the fact that you were enjoying yourself - this is so much fun. You don’t get many opportunities for fun. Just the rare times when your teacher melts that icy exterior just a bit and lets you be a child rather than a piece of equipment he has to break in. The problem, though, is that it always seems like when you have fun, the down swing afterwards is so much worse. You really don’t know if it is just your mindset, or if you honestly sense when life is about to kick you back into the dirt. Either way, you’re suddenly aware that something no longer feels right.

“You’re a special kid. I've never seen talent like this, Short-Stuff,” Dualscar's sounds a bit sad despite giving such compliments, and it makes you stop playing and turn to look at him. “Kinda sad, really.”

“What do you mean?” you ask; bewildered by the sudden change in his mood - which is saying something with the way your mood swings.

Dualscar raises an eyebrow at you, “You mean Cayden never told you, chief? He just let you carry on with this little hobby of yours? Get yer hopes up? Dang, that's cruel.”

You can feel your eyebrows draw together and your ears begin to buzz; you aren’t really sure you want to know but you can’t stop yourself from asking, “What?”

“About being a helmsman. Didn't he tell you what you were in for?” Dualscar answers. He covers your hand with his, running his thumb thoughtfully over the back of your hand. You suppose it’s a comforting sort of gesture, but it makes you feel cold and nervous.

You can feel your blood-pusher hammering in your chest and your head is swimming. You don’t want to know this. This is not something you need to hear right now, so you try to back pedal out of it. “I-I've been installed before, lots of times. It wasn’t so bad...” you barely whisper. Your lisp seems to take over and mangle everything.

“Sheesh, kid, this isn't like hooking up to a computer and powering shit with your mind for a bit before they unhook you and set you loose in the playground. Being a helmsman means permanent installation. Once you're hooked up you don't just walk away. You can't walk away. They pretty much lop off your hands and feet and hard wire your head into the system.”

You do not cry.

You are not going to cry.

You will not cry. Not in front of this asshole.

“I want to go now,” you say, and slide off his lap and walk to the door.

“Did I say you could go? I don't think I did. Hmmm, let's see who the high-blood noble in this room is and who the grubsauce yellow wriggler is?” Dualscar calls to you as you grab the door handle. “I'll tell you when you can go.”

You stand with your hand on the door handle for a moment before you look over your shoulder at Dualscar. He is smiling that shark-like grin at you; this is all so funny to him. You can't believe you actually started to like him for a bit there.

You flip him off.

And you continue to flip him off as you open the door and stomp away.

“Hoo-hoo, kid really is a little spitfire!” You hear him laughing that sickening glubbing laugh of his as you stumble up the stairs from his quarters to the deck.

Cayden is standing there on deck with his arms crossed tightly over his chest and a look on his face that would have given you chills at any other time, but right now you want to flip him the double bird too. You would if you could get away with it, but he'd surely zap you with the control he keeps in his pocket if you so much as looked cross-eyed at him. He’s never gone that far, but you know if you acted out that badly, he’d do it. He’d do it because he doesn’t care, nobody cares about you. They never have.

His eyes suddenly snap onto you and for a brief moment his expression starts to harden. He is about to chew you out, probably for playing that piano when everyone could hear you. But when you get closer the hard edges of his face slowly soften. The scowl stays, but he isn’t angry with you anymore.

“Mituna?” He said your name. He said your given name instead of ‘Captor’ like he always does.

“I'm fine,” you answer, but you don’t look up at him. You are staring down at your hands, slowly flexing your fingers.

Your teacher watches you for a moment; you can feel him searching for an answer. Then he reaches down and cups your cheek in his hand, brushing his thumb under your eye and wiping away the tear you'd let escape. You hiccup, and press heels of both your palms to your eyes trying to stop it from happening again. You can't show any sort of weakness, you can't. Weakness means they will only torment you more.

“He went too far,” you hear him say very quietly; at least you think you heard him speak. You’re not sure anymore.

“I'm fine.” How many times have you said that? You were chanting it the whole time, weren’t you?

“Mituna, I want you to go to the market and pick up some things for me. I need to stay here and discuss something with Captain Dualscar. Can I trust you to do this for me?” You hear the rustle of his clothes while he speaks; the scratching of a pen on paper. Then you feel him pull one of your hands from your face so he can push the satchel he keeps as a wallet and a scrap of paper into your palm. “Mituna, will you please do this for me?”

He’s telling you to go on an errand without him? You’ve never been so confused, you’ve never –

Cayden cups both of your cheeks in his hands, forces you to look him in the eyes. The gentleness of it frightens you and you don’t know why. You don’t know what to think anymore.

“Listen to me. Do exactly what I tell you to do. Follow what I have written down for you to do for me, do you understand?”

You nod an affirmative and then pull away and turn to leave.

You hear Dualscar laugh as he saunters up on deck and your blood-pusher seizes at the sound, but your teacher cups your chin and makes you turn back to him once more, drawing your attention away from Dualscar. “Be quick, then.”

“Are you really sure you can let the little wiggler just run off like that without a leash on?” Dualscar asks, amused more than curious. He’s still taunting you in any way he can.

“He's a good boy,” is all you hear your teacher say before your feet get a mind of their own and you break out into a run towards the market.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is so long I had to cut it in two. Part 2 will be posted soon and tiny Signless will finally make his appearance!


	3. Survival - Part 2

Two sweeps ago, a medium level psionic had tried to run. You were there when it happened, you watched her die, and the image was imprinted on your think-pan forever. You didn’t know her well, you didn’t even know her name, but you adored her.  She had been nice to you after you had a bad integration session.  She could have easily made things worse for you by dragging you out of the closet you had hidden in and throwing you to the barkfiends – in fact that would have earned brownie points for her as far as staff were concerned, but she didn’t.  She chose to save you, even if it was just for a moment.

 The first time a psionic is forced to interface with the system is rough; you had taken it especially hard because you were still very young and a bit fiery.  They hadn’t broken you down yet, and you were the youngest troll to be conditioned for the role of a helmsman; this made things harder for you to handle at times. The techs would push your abilities to the breaking point simply because they didn’t know any better.

The moment they pulled the jack from your skull you bit the tech, sinking your teeth so far into the flesh of his hand you felt your fangs click on your bottom row of teeth.  Then you bolted out the door when he reeled back in pain and a spurt of blood.  You found the nearest cleaning closet and hid before they could get the collar back on you. 

A frail older girl had found you huddled in the shadows and instead of dragging you out and taking you directly to Educator; she dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you as close as she could get you while she gently pet your hair and shushed you.  Her gentle touch and warmth brought back memories of when your lusus held you and grumbled in that comforting way he used to.  You felt safe and warm in his arms, the same way you felt in hers - a beautiful troll you didn't even know took pity on you and it was the loveliest feeling you had ever known. 

She disappeared after that.  You thought she was gone; perhaps she was in trouble for not bringing you to them the moment she found you.  Maybe she wasn't even real; you questioned your sanity for as long as you could remember.  Perhaps your pan was making up pretty lies to ease the pain and fear.  Real or not, she gave you a tiny shred of hope.  She allowed you to see that the world wasn’t completely dark.

You instantly recognized her the moment you saw her again - you’re not sure how you were able to, though; she had changed so much. 

The troll you remember was beautiful - large shining eyes and hair that reached down to the middle of her back.  Sadness had tainted her, but she had smiled easily and you could clearly see that she must have smiled often before she came to the institution.  It fit her; the delicate upward curve of her lips suited her. 

She looked completely feral the next time you saw her. The long beautiful hair was shaved off, her eyes were dull and sunken into her skull, and the lovely smile had been completely eradicated from her features.

She darted past you, her eyes wild and unseeing, tears of ochre blood staining her cheeks, her lips drawn back over her bared fangs in a silent scream.  She was trying to fly as she ran, but crackling sparks from her collar could be seen leaping and snapping viciously at her skin.  The device stopped her power and kept her grounded by sapping the energy and doubling it back in on her.  She must have been in agony, and fear drove her wildly onward. She had only gotten a short distance past you, a matter of a couple feet, before the failsafe protocol of the collar severed her head from her shoulders and sprayed you and everything around the two of you in ochre.

Your Educator calmly walked over and picked you up without a word. He carried you away from the court yard while the techs, other staff, and a couple of cleaning drones all shuffled past you in no particular hurry, muttering about the inconvenient mess she had left.  Nobody mourned her.  Nobody cared.  She was just a medium level low-blooded psionic that couldn't hack it for the empire.  She had been broken and useless to everyone – but you.

Educator remained silent every step of the way until you were alone in your tiny respite block.  He set you on the sink of your ablution chamber and said two things as he cleaned the blood from your face.  He told you that it was a mistake to feel for anyone because naive things like love and hope would get you killed.  Then he told you to forget her and everything that had just happened.

He never spoke of it again.

You disobeyed his order, it was one of the few times you ever disobeyed Cayden.  You didn't forget her.  You couldn’t forget her.  She haunted your day-terrors along with your dead lusus.

Even now you are thinking of her as you run past the fish market, through the streets, bumping into people until you finally trip and fall on your face. You drag yourself to your feet, running on, thinking of her; how she ran to her death.  She's free of all the torment now. You wish you could have the same freedom.  Death would be a mercy for one of your kind.

You wish the collar would kill you, but it won’t. You stole all the information you could find about your collar and its abilities.  You had the habit of listening to the techs in charge of your project while you were in the lab hanging limply tangled up in wires that connected to the system.  The techs always made the mistake of thinking your physical body shut down cognitive functions while you were jacked in; they thought you were 'off' until they decided it was time to turn you ‘on’ like a component to a greater machine.  They were wrong, you were always fully aware of your physical surroundings, even as your mind spread through the system on cybernetic wings.  You found every crack in their security and slipped through the archives, you gathered and stored information they never wanted you to know – but you were also fully aware of everything around your corporeal shell.

The idiots would even spout off their passwords to each other while you were plugged in.  They were too lazy to enter them themselves, because they were too busy telling dirty jokes, drinking their coffee, or bragging about who they may or may not have pailed the other night.  You thought it was their way of mocking you.  They taunted you with their indifference; they were crude, uncaring, and waved the keys to your freedom under your nose.

There was one time Cayden had stayed behind and discussed how precious you were, a real asset to the empire.  A psionic as special as you couldn't be put in jeopardy; not after the rash of psionics that had been culled by their collars.  Educator had always raised a stink about your collar and the precision of its output, his furious brow beating must have been the only thing that separated you from the other psionics.  They couldn't risk the collar accidentally culling you if you ever attempted anything stupid.  So your collar was specially made; unique, just like you. 

You couldn't stop the curiosity nipping at you while you were hooked up and eavesdropping on them.  Boredom fueled the itch and that sent you picking through files until you discovered all the information you had gleaned while listening in was completely true.  You stored all the information you could find on all the collars.  You also had the good fortune to file away the schematics of your unique collar.

Educator had always thought you were such a good little troll, but you were just sneaky and knew how far you could push before you got caught.  You entertained the idea that you could maybe hack it and get it off, but then you found out about a safety that would trip if it was tampered with.  It would send out electric pulses that would seize your muscles and drop you in agonizing pain while it sent out a tracking signal so the techs could find you - and beat you within an inch of your life when they did find you. 

There was nowhere to run, and tampering with the collar was completely out.  You couldn't just take it off either, because you couldn't access all the pass codes needed to unlock it.  You also suspected there was another security measure that would keep you from taking off your own collar even if you had all three codes.  It’s the same measure that wouldn't allow you to pull the lead biowire from the port in the back of your skull whenever the techs turned their backs.  You had fantasized about pulling it so often.  You had pictured yourself yanking the wires out, destroying everything in sight, and casually leave a burning crater behind - but then you felt a cold knot in your nutrition sac, your head would hurt, you’d feel heavy and limp whenever that thought crossed your mind.  You could never make that move. 

There is no escape         

Your collar could hurt you, but it would never kill you.

Even death has turned its back on you.

You finally drop to your knees from exhaustion, you glance around taking note that you’ve run far enough to reach the tree line of the forest that surrounded and secluded the little port village. You bury your face in your hands, curling forward into a ball on the dirt and fallen leaves.  You finally give in, now that no one is around to tell you to straighten up. You finally let everything that has been simmering inside for so many sweeps bubble up and spill over.  There’s no one to tell you to get your act together or you'd be given a real reason to cry, not right now.

There’s a large, gnarly looking tree near you, twisted roots knotting across the ground, a perfect place for a small troll to scrunch down into and hide.  You crawl to it and curl up against the trunk; drawing your legs up until you can wrap your arms around them and bury your face against your knees. You feel like a snapping shellbeast hiding from everything, trying desperately to protect yourself.

Educator had been right.  Hope is more painful than what you are forced to live with.  You dared to let yourself think being a helmsman wouldn’t be so bad, you thought it would be like all the other times you had interfaced with the system.  It might hurt at first but then the pain would dull and you can entertain yourself with all the information within the reach of your mind.  You always had a flicker of bright hope telling you that you are still a troll when the night is done.  In just a few hours you will be you again.  You had no idea it would be a permanent installation, you won’t be a troll anymore, you will be part of a machine for as long as you continued to live. 

No - that's not right.  You’re lying to yourself again.

You must have had some clue.  There were so many times you had stopped over that file.  So many times you had brushed your mind over the Helmsman information, but you never could bring yourself to open it. 

You didn't want to know.  So you moved on and read music instead, imagining what it would sound like.  Saving it for later when Educator would let you use his igrub to play with that silly keyboard app. 

You can’t even have music anymore.  You’ll never play again.  Why does Cayden let you have this small happiness?  After telling you not to love or dare to hope in anyone or anything.  Why does he encourage you to play?

Music is the only thing that keeps you sane.  It’s the only thing you love, and you won’t even be allowed to have that small luxury anymore. 

Of course it will be taken from you.  Everything you love is taken away from you. Your lusus was murdered, anyone who has ever taken pity on you has been culled, and soon even the music will be gone.

The pathetic wail you just heard couldn't have possibly come from you, could it?

You stay curled up among the roots of the tree, crying until you have spent every tear you have ever kept bottled up.  Your head is pounding, sparks leaping between your horns and causing your collar to send little electric zaps across your neck in retaliation.  Then a strange sound catches your ear.  Your ears tingle and sting a little as your pan tries harder than it should to pick up any noise above the hammering din of your blood-pusher and the static crackling of your collar.

_Someone is singing?_

You listen more carefully, picking out the words.  Based on the lyrics, the song would have been banned, and whoever wrote it would be mercilessly culled. You are a bit of a scholar on this topic; you’ve always had a soft spot for heretic music.  If this had been in the banned archives you would have been all over it like a quackbeast on a high-solstice bug and long since memorized every lyric and note of the sheet music, but you don’t know this song at all. 

_It's so beautiful._

You’re on your feet in seconds and stumbling over roots in search of the origin.  The singer is close, you feel a pang of embarrassment as you draw closer - they must have heard you sobbing like a wiggler.

You peek around the tree, afraid of getting caught, but too curious to turn away and leave. There’s a small troll just a short distance away, maybe just a sweep younger than you, dressed in drab anonymous gray clothes.  He’s singing while staring down at his feet, trying to hold his balance on the trunk of a small fallen tree.  His song is continuously interrupted by giggle fits whenever he slips on the moss and stumble-hops to the ground.

_This wiggler is shit-hive maggots crazy_ , you think to yourself as you scrutinize the situation.

_Wait - or is this how wigglers were supposed to be?  Are children really supposed to be so silly and care-free; playing and giggling over stupid things?_   Perhaps – but you’re pretty sure they don't sing blasphemies as they play on dead trees. 

Oh, you do love the song he’s singing, such beautiful sacrileges about love, kindness, and equality.

“Hello,” he sings out as he balances on the log with his arms stretched out to keep himself from toppling off again. 

It takes a moment for you to realize this is not part of the song.  He looks over his shoulder directly at you and grins. You feel the hair on the back of your neck stand on end and you scrabble back behind the tree, pressing your back flat against the rough surface of the bark until it’s digging into your skin through your shirt. You’re trying to delude yourself into thinking he hadn't actually seen you.  You wait a minute, it felt more like an eternity of listening to your blood thrumming in your ears, and then you slowly peek back around the tree. 

He’s gone.

“You know,” the little troll says right next to your ear, “when someone says ‘hello’ you really should say hello back, it's only polite.”

You shriek - it’s a dignified shriek - and lurch away from the tiny troll; catching your foot under a root and tumbling over.  You land hard on your rump, knocking the air out of your lungs.

This is it, you are so done now. After kissing dirt once again- albeit with your butt this time- the raging migraine from hell, and the fact that tiny crazy troll is now hovering over you as you gasp for air like a fish out of water - yeah, check please - So done.

“I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to scare you! A-are you hurt?” He asks. He frets over you like an overbearing lusus. Not that you really know what that is like, but you have heard people say this and you always thought it meant they were really smothering - Which is exactly what this little troll is.  He has his hands all over you, checking for tears in your clothes, or cuts on your body.

“I'm fine,” You say weakly while brushing the dirt off your hands.

He suddenly grabs your hand, squeezing it between his palms, “I'm so sorry, I didn't want to scare you.  I-I don't get to – I mean I don't really – I never get to talk to anyone but Rosa.  So I got so excited when I saw you – um, you look like you might be my age, and I never - just - I just wanted to talk.  I didn't want to scare you.”

“It's okay,” You say and wince at the way you lisp, last thing you need is for this kid to start laughing at you too.

“Really?”  He says, while gently rubbing the back of your hand. 

You stare at his hands, a bit bewildered by his actions.  You’re not entirely sure why he’s touching you and why you haven’t ripped your hand from him yet. 

“My name's Kankri, what's yours?” He’s smiling and trying to catch your gaze, but you can’t really bring yourself to meet his eyes. 

You hesitate before you answer, “Mituna.”

The smile on his face falters and his eyebrows draw together, “Hey, are you sure you're okay?  You didn't really seem okay when I first saw you.”

He did see you bawling like an idiot.  You finally yank your hand away from him and rub furiously at your eyes, trying to wipe away the sticky tear tracks you can still feel clinging to your cheeks.  “I said I'm fine.”

“I don't know… that didn't look fine at all. Are you lost or something? Is your lusus missing? Did you do something wrong? OH! Did someone hurt you?”  He starts flinging questions at you rapid fire and leaning entirely too far into your personal space bubble.  “You can tell me anything, it's not like I ever talk to anyone, so it's not like I'm going to tell on you or anything.”

“I don't even know you!” You squawk and start scooting away from him.  Good grief, you're a regular shut-in with no true-life concept of social interaction, but even you recognize uncalled for pale solicitations.

“Wait! Don't go!!” Kankri cries as he lunges and tackles you back to the ground, wrapping his arms and legs around your middle like he’s entirely made up of Horror Terror tentacles. You quickly discover that he may be small, but he is all clinging arms and legs and uncanny strength for such a tiny thing.

The two of you tussle around making an unholy racket of distress chirps and awkward attempts at calming paps.  It’s like he has permanently bonded his limbs to your thorax and no amount of squirming, pushing, or kicking could dislodge him.  The stupid, most embarrassing thing about this situation is that the more you struggle the more you catch yourself starting to give in to his warmth.  Somewhere in the back of your mind you feel this agonizing longing screaming for you to just give up and wrap your arms around him.  Then the sane part of you sees Educator glaring disapprovingly at you.  You start calling up memories of the girl that tried to comfort you or your lusus lifeless in a pool blood after he tried to protect you.

Any time you lower your defenses and let a little happiness in, it gets ripped away from you and destroyed.

You realize that you have stopped struggling with Kankri.  You’re sitting up and he’s no longer clinging desperately to keep you in place. His legs are loosely wrapped around your waist and you’ve wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in the slant of his neck.  You’re crying again, spilling yellow tearsall over him while he coos in your ear and rubs circles between your shoulder blades with one hand; his other is buried in your hair, scratching lightly around your horns.  He’s humming a gentle sad tune as he snuggles against you and comforts you. 

The tears finally stop after some time passes; you start to pull away from him but you’re a bit embarrassed to look up.  He cups your cheeks in his small hands, brushing away tear stains with his thumbs.  You finally catch his eyes and he’s smiling so brightly it makes you squirm and wish you could hide from it.

“Wow! Your eyes are so cool!”  He suddenly exclaims and you clamp your eye lids shut.

“No, no! Let me see, please!”  Kankri whines, and runs his fingers through your hair until he has you purring and leaning into his touch.   

He lets out a disapproving grunt and your purring falters.  “Well, this is just not fair.  Your horns are huge and sharp!”  His praises are so humiliating, and flattering, and this strange mix of horrible and wonderful at once.  It makes you so happy to hear someone fussing over how beautiful you are instead of making fun of you and calling you a mutation.  Yet, at the same time, you really don’t know what to do with all this affection.  It’s so much to take in at once. 

“Not fair at all,” He mutters as he pulls his hands away and touches his own little nubby horns, they were tiny and nearly lost in all his dark curls. “Mine are so small.”

“But they're so – cute,” You say before you even realize what you were going to say.

“They're not supposed to be cute, they're supposed to be intimidating and fierce,” he says and tries to snarl, but it’s the worst giggle-riddled snarl you've ever heard.

You don’t know what’s gotten into you.  You comb your fingers through his hair and run your thumb over the little dip in his horn. “But I like them, they're perf-”

He cuts you off suddenly, sitting up straight leaning forward, dragging your face down to bump his forehead against yours and immediately starts purring.  A wave of contentment washes over you and you no longer try and fit it.  You give in, holding him as close as you can get. You must be insane.  The both of you must be completely shit-hive maggots out of your think-pans.  You don’t even know him, but it feels like you’ve known him forever and missed him terribly.

You simply never knew just how much you needed this.

Kankri shifts in your arms, trying to either get you closer or pull himself up close to you but it only ends in the two of you toppling backwards, giggling stupidly, and wrestling around  in the dirt like a couple of idiots.   He seems hell-bent on getting you to laugh and smile and he’s doing a fine job finding ticklish spots you didn't even know existed.

“Much better, these tears look so much better!” He snickers down at you while attacking your armpits with those horrible little claws of his.  All you can do is hysterically laugh and desperately try to buck him off.

You flail and grab his shirt, brushing just below his grubscar and you feel him flinch, you see a flicker of his internal thoughts screaming 'oh crap' on his features. Victory is in your grasp. Then you attack, teasingly scraping and lightly digging claws into his sides until he squeals and falls over in an attempt to get away. 

The two of you tumble in the dirt, debris and leaves flying everywhere, you absently take a mental note that you are playing for the first time in your existence, and it is the most wonderful thing in the world.

Kankri pins you again, once more reminding you that he’s much stronger than he looks.  He throws his leg over your hip to keep you in place while he tries to catch his breath; then something terrible happens.

The collar buzzes, it’s the only warning you get before a searing agonizing pain clamps down on your senses, setting your nerves on fire. You arch off the ground pitching him off you completely, your head thrown back and your lips pull over your fangs while you let out a strangled scream.

Kankri is on his feet in seconds with sickles mysteriously in hand, standing over you ready to take on a horde of enemies if need be.  “WHAT!? WHAT IS IT?”

You just lie there motionless, breathing heavily while clutching at your collar.  It stopped.  Why has it stopped?  If they were looking for you the pain wouldn't have stopped until they found you. 

Kankri puts away his sickles in his fetch modus and then he drops down beside you, looking both alarmed and angry.

“I- _Hnn_ \- I don't – know.  _Haa_ \- Get away,” You try to tell him to run, get as far away from you as possible, but you seem to get your mouth to work.  You can’t even get your fingers to move and release the death grip on the collar.

Somehow, he must have understood what had hurt you. His hands are on yours, gently prying your fingers away from the collar and then he starts rubbing and massaging them trying to get the feeling back.

“What was that?  Are you okay?” He asks; desperation and fear lacing his words.  He releases your hands and moves to touch your collar.  “Is it this? I think I can cut it off.”

“No,” you blurt suddenly, startling him into silence. 

He gives you a confused look and waits for you to explain further, but you sit up painfully slow and drag yourself clumsily to your feet.  “I have to go.”

“I can't let you go like this.” Kankri’s under your arm, supporting you before you even realized your legs had given out.

“You can't stay here, I can't be around you.” You watch his expression fall, the worry and fear now edging with sadness.  “If they find you with me, if they're looking for me, I don't know what will happen to you if they find me with you.”

“We can worry about that when it happens. Tell me what's goin' on? Let me help you!” he insists.

“You can't help me! You can't do anything!  They'll find me, and then they'll kill you just because you were stupid enough to try and -”

“Shhhhhhh.”  He paps your cheek and then throws his arms around you again.

“Why? Why are you so worried about me?  You don't even know me, I'm nothing to you,” You say into his hair, burying your nose between his horns. 

Kankri lets you go; you feel him squeeze your hand tightly in his as he leans closer and nuzzles your shoulder.  You've never seen such sympathy; you thought it was something only seen in the silly digital books you read while techs poked at you.  You thought nobody would care what happened to you. Even in the rare cases when someone did take some form of pity on you, they hadn’t shown such a willingness to bear your pain as their own.

“I treat people the way I wish they would treat me.  I know we just met, but that doesn't mean I don't love you. We don't need to have been friends forever; we have forever in front of us.  You needed me, and I - I really need you too,” He says and lowers his head to bump your shoulder again.  “I'm spoiled, and I'm selfish, and I need you so much.  I'm never allowed to talk to anyone; I usually have to wait on the outskirts when we need something from a town.  Then you suddenly showed up.  I felt like - you probably think I will sound crazy - but the moment I saw you I felt like I've known you for ages.  I feel like we were meant to find each other.  Like I’ve been searching for you, and only now I’ve found you.”

“You are so weird,” You say but a stupid smile plasters itself across your face, you couldn't stop yourself, everything just felt so right.  For once everything felt like it fit, and it made you happy, no strings attached kind of happy.  There was only this feeling and the sense of doom that usually tainted any was nowhere in sight.  He looks up at you and you quickly lean forward to bump your forehead against his, returning the affection he had showered upon you.

“I'm not weird, the world is what's weird,” he says with a sad smile and then he matches your purr with his own.

“I still have to go,” you whisper, shattering the pleasant situation completely.

“Can't I just cut it off!?” Kankri bellows right in your face.  It had to be some sort of patented secret to be able to switch so fluidly from sounding so grown up and soft spoken to spoiled little brat mode.

“No,” you state flatly. “It's got a safety on it.  You can't tamper with it or it will zap me and never shut off until someone comes to find me, and then kick my butt up between my shoulder blades.”

“Isn't there anything we can do?”  He pleads, but the look on your face is answer enough. “If there was anything we could do, you would have done it already.  I know.”

“I can't let you get mixed up in this, Kankri.  Anyone who gets close to me gets killed,” you whisper, trying to back away from him.

“But I want to help you.  Let me at least try.  You can't lose hope; you got to let people close, Mituna.”

“Things like love and hope will only get you killed in this world,” you parrot Cayden’s words at him.

“This one, maybe, but I think I like having a hope to cling to. It may end badly sometimes, but hope keeps you strong.” He smiles at you, that toothy childish grin full of crooked beautiful fangs, “And all you need is love.”

“You aren't really...”

“All you need is love!” he sang.

“Oh my – _Staaaahp_.” You squawk when he wraps his arms around your middle once again and squeezes before he makes a little ‘hup’ noise and hoists you up, swinging you around and giggling like a dork.

“I am going to throw up on you, and you deserve it,” you say unable to fight his infectious giggling.

Kankri drops you on your feet and suddenly grunts.  “Okay, what the heck is in your pocket, it's jabbing me.”

You sputter and feel your face heat up, however Kankri has this perfectly innocent expression like he has no idea what you are getting flustered about.  Then you remember you had jammed Cayden’s wallet and note into your pocket when you ran from Dualscar’s ship.

“Oh - oh yeah, I was supposed to pick something up for Educator,” you say and pull the satchel and the rumpled note from your pocket.  You try to smooth the paper so you could read the item he wants you to pick up, the item he has been waiting for who knows how long now.

' _278-24-5'_

You stare at the paper and then flip it over, giving it a shake as though you expected something to fall out.  You stare blankly at the number again and then repeat this process about three times before Kankri stops you.

“What is it?”

“It's -” you start to answer, but you can't believe what your think-pan is saying to you.  You pull the satchel open and there mixed among the money and really strange jewelry is the controller to your collar.  That must have been what had been jabbing Kankri, it must have also been the reason you got a disciplinary zap while the two of you were playing.  Kankri must have accidently triggered it in the tussle.

You pull out the controller, holding it in your hand, staring in disbelief at it.  “I think – I think it’s my Educator’s pass code and the controller to my collar.”

“Then why are we just standing here like a bunch of dumb featherbeasts?” Kankri shouts, “Take it off!”

You open one of the flaps in the controller and pull out a little cord with what looks like a tiny USB jack on the end, and then you twist your collar around until you can reach the little port and slip the key in.  It clicks and the control screen lights up and asks for the first of three pass codes, but then you do nothing else.  You start to type, but your hand falls weakly to your side.  You can’t think.  You can’t make yourself move.  You feel hot and cold at once, your pan is a buzzing hive of angry bees.

“What's wrong?” Kanrki asks, a bit bewildered by the fact you aren’t racing to get it off.

“I can't,” You grind out between clenched teeth and then try again to type, but your hand just falls to your side once again.

“What do you mean you can't!? Of course you can! Get it off!”  Kankri orders, his voice picking up that edge of panic.

“I can't type, I'm trying.  I can't do it! Every time I start to type in the code it's like all the feeling in my arm goes dead and I can't do it,” You answer and then let out a distressed chirrup.

“How can that even -”

You should have known they had probably done this to you too, you just never noticed because you never tried to run.  You had seen it happen to other trolls, you even asked Educator and he explained the entire process to you.  He even managed to grimace when you had said ‘oh, so, it’s brainwashing?’  For some reason you had deluded yourself into thinking your complacency with your situation was your own.  They hadn’t done anything to stop you beyond threats.

“They do this physiological conditioning to the new trolls they bring in.  I don't know why I never noticed, I never really paid attention.  I mean, I noticed they did it to others but it just – it was like I didn't care.  I didn't know they did it to me, because I just didn’t remember.  I was really little and stupid.  I’m SO STUPID.  They must have done it to me too.  They had to have.  I can't - It’s why I could never pull the biowires out.  They conditioned me to not touch any of my bonds.”

Kankri moves in a way that makes you think he’s about to pap you again and try to calm you down, but then there’s a solid determination in his stance.  You can almost feel his rage radiating from him, like heat generated by a tiny angry sun.  “Then give it here!” Kankri says and takes the controller from you, staring down at the screen. “Can you talk me through it? I don’t understand this shit.”

“I-I don't know, I think so.  They never stopped me from hacking their system when I was connected, so I guess so,” you reply.

“It says you need three pass codes?  Do you have three?”  Kankri asks.

“First is-” You swallow the hard lump in your protein chute you suspect might be your blood pusher, and hope that the conditioning won’t stop you from saying the codes. “278-24-5,” you say and then wait until he finishes tapping in the code with unskilled claws.  “Second is 321-06-2, and the last is 451-36-9.”

The moment Kankri types in the last number your collar makes the familiar clicking noise it makes every time it releases, and then it falls to the ground.  You gape at it while Kankri wiggles next to you.

“Do we need to leave?  We probably need to leave right?  Will they kno-?”

The collar lifts off the ground, a haze of red and blue psionic power engulfing it and carrying it up to your eye level.  You reach a hand towards it, as if to touch it.  Then every tiny screw spins out, shooting away like tiny bullets, every seal and joint suddenly cracks open, you dismantle it in milliseconds, down to the bare parts you remember seeing in the schematics, and then you dismantled it further to its basic elements and forced them to combust in a flash of light and heat.

Kankri owlishly blinks at the ash that blew away, then you feel him slip his arm around your elbow, “You, uh, you good now?”

“Yeah,” you quietly reply.

“You sure? ‘Cause I'm honestly a little afraid to shoosh you right now, but I'll do it if I need to,” he says, but when you turn and smile down at him. He returns it easily.

“Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do that? How long I've played that over in my head and wondered what it would feel like,” you ask but don’t expect an answer.  Instead you wrap your arms around Kankri's waist.  “There's something else I have always wanted to do, but Educator wouldn't really let me.  He said it takes up too much power and I wouldn't be able to do my psionic training.”

Kankri blinks at you, probably not entirely sure what all you were even going on about.  So you bite your bottom lip lightly and then grin and ask, “Trust me?”

“Uhh, yea _a **AAAAAAGH**!!”_ Kankri starts to answer but his ‘ _yeah_ ’ turns into unintelligible screaming as you suddenly shoot from the ground and into the air.  A flurry of blue and red sparks crackling harmlessly around the two of you as you carry him with you above the canopy of trees.

He continues to squeal and make panicky little distress chirps long after you halt the upward climb and just float above the trees.  You lean back a bit so you can cradle him against you and give him at least some sort of anchored sense, but it doesn’t seem to help at all.

“You can open your eyes now,” you say, laughing when he tightens his grip on you.

“I-I trust you - BUT NO.  Nononono, I don't need to see.  I'm good with the not seeing, not seeing is GREAT,” he states, and then buries his face against your chest, nearly smothering himself.

You were about to tease him when you notice dark smoke rising from the docks, and then you can hear the cacophony of people screaming below. 

“Kankri, something's happening.  We need to leave, right now.” You start to float away but Kankri cries out and stops you.

“No, my lusus is there somewhere.  Mituna we have to go find Mom!”  Kankri lifts his head and tries to see, but you could tell he’s terrified by the height and the added fear of losing his ‘mom’?  It was a strange name you didn’t understand for a lusus, but you understand the terror of losing one.

“Educator, too, I left him with Dualscar. Maybe – what if I could free him too somehow,” You whisper.

Would Cayden be angry with you for coming back for him?  Should you go back for him?  You’re afraid, but he has been the only constant in your life so far.  He set you free.  What if he too needed to be set free?

Kankri nods against your chest, unaware of your building conflict.

“Hold on tight, I'm going to see if I can get us as close to Dualscars ship as possible without being seen.  Where was your lusus?  Did she tell you?” You ask, but you’re starting to wonder why a lusus would go into town without her wriggler.  That was just - strange.  Maybe she was checking the area for danger before she let him come with her?

“The market,” Kankri whispers.

“She probably ran then, the moment everyone else started running, she'll be looking for you where she left you in the trees,” You say and slowly float back down to where the two of you had come from.

“Then I'll drop you off there instead of taking you towards Dualscar.  Look for her and then wait here for me for a little bit, okay?”

Kankri lifts his head to look up at you, searching your face, “You'll come with us?”

“I-if you'll let me..” you barely get the words out before Kankri pitches upwards in your grasp and tries to head bump you, only to clumsily knock his horn against your chin.  It was close enough; you know what he’s trying to say.

 

                ______________

 

You set Kankri down almost exactly where you had found him singing earlier, the moment his feet touch the ground he starts searching for her, calling out the name “Rosa”, which you find strange since he called her Mom earlier.

“We'll find her, Kankri, don't worry.  What kind of lusus is she?  It won't be hard to spot her, I'm sure.”  Considering it's never hard to spot giant white creatures like lussii.

“She's a really pretty troll, she likes to wear jade green, her hair is kinda short and flippy and one horn is kinda bent down on the tip.”

You turn and gawk at him, “What?”

“What?” He replies and tilts his head at you.

“Your lusus is – a troll? Wait, your lusus is a jade-blood female?” That has to be the weirdest thing you have ever heard of, and the thought that enters your head as soon as you put all the facts together is so far-fetched you can’t even believe you’re thinking it.

“Yeah?” Kankri answers, giving you a confused look like he just witnessed you sprouting another horn in the middle of your head.

You start to say something, but your mouth just goes slack and you say nothing.  You want to ask the ridiculous thing that has entered your head, but you didn't know how to word it.  It would insinuate that something was wrong with both of them and you don't want to hurt him, or pop whatever dream bubble he’s living in. He didn't seem to see anything strange about a troll as a lusus, so you decide to leave it at that.

Kankri has resumed the search around the area and he stops suddenly over a hollowed log and pulls it back, “She left her supplies here, she must have gone back in looking for me!”

“Then let's go find her,” you float over to Kankri, you may be abusing your powers more than you should, and you wrap your arms around him.  This time he’s braced for it, his muscles are tense and unyielding under your touch.  Earlier, you thought he was just tiny and cuddly, but now that he's so anxious you can feel that he's all muscle. If you ever had to face him in a fight he'd be a cholarbear.

“Come on, Kankri, we'll find her.  She's going to be okay,” you try to make yourself believe your own words; if you believe in what you are saying maybe he would too. You really aren’t sure it would work; your experience with loved ones always ended badly, leaving you bitter and pessimistic.

Kankri rubs furiously at his eyes, almost as though he’s terrified you’d see they’re starting to water.  He’s brushing every tear that was threatening to fall to his cheeks, wiping away the fear and replacing it with determination and anger.  You embrace him tightly, “hold on, I'll try to sneak in close to the market.”

He nods and wraps his arms around your shoulders, burying his face in your neck to try and keep from losing his calm again.  Apparently, he doesn’t do heights all that well.

By staying close to the canopy, you can use the foliage to hide while you maneuver as close as possible.  The village is small, there’s a main street that leads to the docks and merchants have lined up stalls down the main drag to make up the market.  Around that main street were decrepit little hives that had sprouted up after the foundation of the institution.  They line the main street on either side and created a maze of tight alleys and dirty back pathways.  This makes it easy to lurk in the shadows unseen; it’s an advantage you fully intend on exploiting.  You simply cannot risk being caught by the institution staff or Dualscar.

You touch down in an alley near the market about halfway to the docks, as close as you dared to get without being seen.  People are everywhere, running and screaming from the fires that had started in the hives near the docks.  Houses and fishing market stalls had been set ablaze and are burning, slowly gathering heat and fury.  Sea trolls are overturning stands, and busting into hives to set even more flames of destruction.  Dualscar is searching for you and leaving nothing unturned.

The moment Kankri's feet touch the ground he pulls his scythes from his fetch modus and runs down the tight little alley to check the back street.  He calls for Rosa, but doesn’t receive an answer.

Something’s terribly wrong, though.  You stumble over your own feet, your vision swimming momentarily as you catch yourself against the wall of the building closest to you.  It takes a moment to shake it off and once it’s gone, you feel cold and achy.

You shrug it off, and force yourself to concentrate.  You’re looking for Educator and Rosa, you must not lose focus.

You inch along the wall in the shadows, and peer around the corner of the building, trying to see what is happening in the middle of all the chaos on the main street.  You look in the direction of the institute, wondering why they have not sent out any of the psionics to fight this battle. You’d think they’d at least try to protect their assets.  You’re their precious little star for the empire, and Educator is their top notch trainer. 

“What’s happening?” you mutter to yourself before turning your head when you felt the heat of Kankri’s body beside you. “Do you see your lusus?”

“No, I don't see her, where is she?  What if she's looking for me?” Kankri is trying not to show it, but he’s bordering on hysterical.          

A familiar voice cuts through the chaos; you’d recognize that annoying glubbing laugh anywhere. 

Dualscar is sauntering down the middle of the street, two other sea trolls in line just a few steps behind him.   He stops in the middle of the street, holding a massive rifle in his hands and looking absurdly bored with the whole situation.

You reach for Kankri and pull him closer to you, pressing into the wall as far as you can.  “Mituna, what is it?” He asks.

“Dualscar is setting fires to the village.  He's a high blood sea troll that I met earlier, just before I met you.”

“Is he one of the ones that did all this to you?” Kankri quietly asks, but you notice a flicker of rage in his eyes.

“No,” you lower your head, “He just made me see the truth, and I didn’t like what I saw.”

Dualscar shot his rifle into the air, it lit the night with bright white fury momentarily and then died, and more trolls fled their homes and cleared the streets in its wake.

“You see, I could be horribly nasty and just kill everyone in my path.  Don't ever say I am not merciful, but I really do not like it when people promise me things and then back out on a deal,” he bellows as he suddenly turns on his heel and stalks back up the street.

He nods at two of his crew members, “Search the houses, turn everything over and then set fire to it.  I don't want my tiny treasure to have any place to hide.”

“Captain, what if he’s in one of the hives and doesn’t leave, pupas are like that sometimes.  We might accidently,”

“DID I GLUBBIN’ STUTTER?”

Both the sea trolls looked absolutely terrified as they saluted their captain and weakly cried “No, Sir,” in unison.

“Mituna is not a stupid child, he won’t let fear control him,” Educator says, stumbling into your line of sight.

“I figured as much.  I would not risk losing such an asset.  I could really use an oracle on my ship,” Dualscar says, shrugging lightly.

He is searching for you.  That realization sends a cold chill through your body that settles into a knot in the middle of your stomach.

“Cayden, my dear man, why did you lie to me? Do you see what you're making me do?  All these pitiful land dwellers, forced from their homes.  Terrified like tiny squeakbeasts. I really don't want to do this but you're leaving me no choice.”

Cayden doesn’t answer.  Instead he reaches up and swipes his thumb across his lip and flicks blood to the street.

Your bloodpusher hammers wildly in your chest; you feel the dizziness from earlier returning. It’s frightening to see a man you had come to rely as the only pillar of strength in your miserable life being reduced to such a state.  Everyone in the institution is terrified of him.  Now, he looks far worse than you had ever seen him.  He is bruised and bleeding, yet he still holds himself with this air of unbroken confidence.

“I really couldn't care less, Captain.” Cayden finally says, and doesn't flinch when Dualscar closes the gap between them and punches him hard in the stomach.  Educator stumbles, doubled over in pain for a moment, but then he straightens back up and stands defiantly like nothing had happened.

“Captain!” One of the sea trolls calls out, quickly running over to Dualscar and speaking quietly to him.

You tug on Kankri and the two of you back into the shadows, once you reach the back street you start searching for another little alley that would get you closer to Educator.  You have to get him out of this.  You don't understand his reasoning, but he had freed you.  If nothing else you want to return the favor, to pay him back for the times he had protected you as much as he could.

Kankri is walking backwards behind you, keeping an eye on anything that might be sneaking up on the two of you.  You carefully duck behind one of the hives and find a tight little alley shadowed and protected from moonlight and flames.  You creep up until you can see Cayden; you can reach him from here if you can only get the chance.

“ROSA!!”  Kankri suddenly yells, and you felt the warm touch of his presence leave you.

You turn just in time to see a beautiful, tall, adult troll pass the alley on the back street you had just come from. You hear her call his name, but she hasn’t returned to the alley.

You quickly follow Kankri as he runs after her.  Just as he rounds the corner and catches sight of her he calls to her again and she spins around, bursting into tears the moment she sees him.  They ran to each other, her arms open and jade tears glinting in moonlight.

One of Dualscar’s crew suddenly steps out from behind one of the hives, cutting Kankri off from his lusus.  The sea troll smirks down at Kankri and starts to lift his foot to kick the little troll back. 

His foot never touches Kankri; you snap it at the knee before he can even put any force behind the attack.  There’s a sickening crack and the troll starts to let out an agonized wail but you use your psionics and clamp energy around his throat, giving it as much physical form as you can muster.  The only sound he makes is a faint gasp and a weak rasping noise from his fluttering gills.

Rosa is behind him in an instant, cracking him over the head with the hard pointed heel of her shoe, the moment you feel him go slack you drop him to the ground where he lies unconscious.

You wanted to kill him, but Kankri is looking at you with this strange mixture of pleading and fear.  Rosa scoops him up in her arms, crying into his hair as she pets his head. You turn back to the alley, you must try and get to Educator before it’s too late, but your knees buckle and you stumble to the ground.

Kankri is there beside you, trying to help you back to your feet and failing.  Then you feel Rosa's delicate hands on your upper arms, hoisting you up and steadying you on your legs.  She has to continue to support you while your head spins. 

You try to shake it off; you have to get to Cayden. You pull away from them, using the wall as support and carefully inch as close to where you last saw Cayden.  You can still feel her gentle hand on your back, keeping you from pitching forward.               

“Why would you tease me by dangling the most powerful psionic in front of me, tell me you wanted him to go with me, and then send him off on his merry way, hmm?  Why?”  Dualscar asks; his face is about two inches from Cayden’s face.

“I didn't want the child to be a helmsman,” Cayden states.  “I was willing to let him go with you if it meant he'd be free of that destiny.  Luckily, I saw you for what you are.  You say I lied to you, but you’re the liar, Captain.  You said he'd be on your ship, I knew you'd use him as a weapon and an oracle but I thought he'd at least be a part of your crew and never have to face that.”

“You're a bit cleverer than you let on, Cayden.  You said you were just an empath, but I think you're a bit more clairvoyant than you let people know.  I must know your secrets, please do enlighten me.”

“I simply sense a liar when I see one,” Cayden says, sneering at Dualscar.

“Well, I would have certainly kept him for quite some time; he would have been perfectly safe with me.  Can you imagine how powerful I would be with a psionic of his caliber?  Nobody could stand against me.  I probably would have waited until he was older, and more powerful, once he had matured and I had developed a decent reputation -”

“And then you would give him away like a door prize, just so you could get into the good graces of the empress, or should I say her pants?” Cayden says.

“You’re so very funny, Quaver.  You should go before The Grand High Blood with that sense of humor,” Dualscar says, a rumbling snarl underlying his words, sending chills down your spine.

“I would have taken good care of him while he was in my company, he could have had a decent life for a while.  At least he would have that assurance.  But noooo, you go asking questions and doing your strange mutant feelings thing and then you went and let him go.” Dualscar’s rage seems to ebb into annoyance as he sighs and tilts his head back staring at the night sky, “You know what I find interestin’?  Why didn't you just let him go instead of offering him to me in the first place?”

Your teacher closes his eyes and turns his head away from Dualscar; he’s facing you now – if only he would open his eyes. H is so close you want to reach out to him.  If he was just a few steps closer you could reach him and pull him away with you.

Dualscar laughs, but it’s that bitter sneering laughter that frightens you to your very core.

“You couldn't could you?  Had to wait until you weren't being watched and they do watch everything you do there, don't they?  They have ways of keeping you low-blood mutant freaks in your place.  You know what, I'm starting to think that maybe you're not even sure he'll be able to get that thing off so he can be free.  You're placing a pretty high stakes bet there, Cayden.  Are you a gambling’ man?” He snickers and turns away from Educator, walking a few paces away where he could bark orders to more of his men.

Cayden finally opens his eyes, and despite the green opacity that sometimes makes it hard to see where he's focused, you could tell that he has just caught sight of you.  He smiles at you, it is the first time you have ever seen that expression on his face. 

Now is your chance, you have to take it.  You start to step forward and Cayden’s relieved expression quickly melts as he holds his hand up just enough to gesture for you to stop.  You try to ignore his silent order to stay, but then Kankri’s lusus grips your shoulders and holds you in place.

Cayden glances between you and Dualscar’s back, you can tell he’s trying to work things out.  He comes to a conclusion in seconds, one you’re afraid you will not like.   
  
“No, I'm not.  I don't believe in luck, but I believe in him.” He carefully looks back at you; he’s not speaking to Dualscar anymore.  You know he’s saying this to you. “I always have.  Even if I didn't show it, I couldn't show it or they would have said I was unfit and taken him from me. I told him not to let emotions control him. I told him love and hope would get him killed, but I never heeded my own words.  I loved him, and I only wanted the best for him.”

You start to reach out to him again, you want to go to him, but this time Kankri wraps hi arms around you and holds you tightly from behind.  Rosa pulls your arm back down.  Your teacher points at you.  That silent gesture he makes to tell you to stay put and not move, or you would regret not obeying him.

Cayden’s stance changes the moment he faces Dualscar, he’s suddenly the formidable figure you had come to both admire and fear.  “Let’s cut the formalities, Captain, and get to the point.”

Dualscar chuckles turning from his two men and glancing back at Cayden, “Really, I don’t think you’ll like the point.”

“Well - I don’t like you, either, so basically – fuck you,” Cayden shrugs.

The two crewmen push past Dualscar and advance on Cayden. “HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO THE CAPTAIN IN SUCH-”

 “I will speak how I like, and you will listen,” Cayden states.

The taller of the two trolls stops short, causing his gangly comrade to stumble and collide against his back.  He stares at Cayden, hand still on the hilt of his sword, listening.

“And then you will take that sword and kill your own companion,” Cayden calmly says, and watches as the other troll pulls the sword from the scabbard without a moment's hesitation and turns on his fellow crewman, ramming the sword into him; he didn’t stop until the hilt jammed into the other troll’s ribcage.

You can’t believe what you’re seeing, you knew there was something more to Cayden’s powers, but he never told you.  You’d never seen the extent of his power.

The wounded troll stumbles backwards, confused and dying; he stares down at the sword as though he can’t believe it is there.  He turns towards Dualscar and falls to his knees, gurgling from the blood filling his lungs. “C-capt-tain…”

“Now take your pistol and use it.  Your dear Captain is about to advance on you,” Cayden says.

The remaining crewman pulls his gun, but before he can even raise the barrel Dualscar grabs the hilt of the sword still buried in the dying troll and yanks it free with a sickening squelch.  He uses the momentum once the blade is loose to quickly swing at the other troll, relieving him of his head.

Dualscar stepped back to the smaller crewman, kneeling beside him, gently covering his face with one hand “shhhhh,” he gently papped the young one while he exhaled one last sputtering breath.  “This was my favorite cabin boy.  He would have been a terrific sailor.  Loyal until the last – He had dreams, he had hopes.  He was entitled to have them.”  He stood back up, facing Cayden.

“However, for low-blooded land dwelling scum like all of you,” Dualscar snarled and with the same blade he had just pulled from his own crewman, he turned on Cayden and ran it clean through his abdomen. “It's true.  Hope will get you killed.  None of you are worth the material it took to make you - and yet you keep hoping for something more.”

A firm but gentle hand suddenly clamped around your mouth when you started to scream as Cayden fell to his knees and then collapsed in the dirt.  Rosa had you and Kankri both in her arms, pulling you back into the shadows until Dualscar turned and gathered up his favorite little subordinate. 

“Rosa,” Kankri was crying, you could feel him trembling against you, or where you the one trembling?  You both were.

She held you both, gently cooing in your ears, whispering promises that everything would be okay.  You weren't really listening; you were staring at Educator.  You felt rage like nothing you had ever felt before and you saw his hand lift barely from the ground trying to tell you to stop, to not give yourself away.

You were crying again, and hoping Cayden could _feel_ it.  Willing him to feel how grateful you are, how much you respected and cared for him.

“F-forgive m-me.... Mituna,” He said aloud.

You pull Kankri's lusus' hand from your mouth, you couldn't let this pass, you have to say something, and you have to tell him.  So you cry out, “I love you, too”

He smiles, faintly, the hard edges melting completely from his features. His hand drops back to the dirt and then he went still.

Kankri's lusus gathers you both up in her arms and runs, “Come, my babies, we can't stay here any longer,” she whispers as she weaves through shadows and escapes down the back alley.

                ------------------

The three of you are walking in silence, you have come to a hill and when you reach the top of the grassy slope you turn and you can see the port village burning, everything is burning even the trees.  Everything except the institute, it is well hidden beneath the surface, and filled with cowards.  They had sent you and Educator out to keep Dualscar at bay, they probably thought he had killed you both, and they wouldn't be brave enough to face someone that had killed their best trainer and their most powerful psionic.

Or had they meant to get rid of you both to begin with.  You can’t help but wonder.

“Mituna?”  Kankri slips close beside you, sliding his hand into yours.

“I should have tried to save him.  I should have killed them all.  I could have saved him.”

“No, sweetie, you couldn't have,” Rosa says as she steps behind you and runs her fingers through both yours and Kankri's hair.

“But they said I'm the most powerful psionic they had ever seen.  I didn't have a limiter on, I could have done it, I could have saved everyone.”

“You would have gone up against a battle seasoned high-blood and his entire crew. With very little power left. They kept you tethered, little one. You're not an endless supply of energy. Even without a limiter on, you were starting to burn out. You would have fought bravely for a time but he would have had you, and the planning and sacrifice your teacher had made to save you would have been for nothing. Don't dishonor him by pulling at the loose threads of your life and trying to unravel the choices that now make up who you are. If you worry and second guess, if you spend your time fretting over what could have been, you'll miss out on what is. He wanted you to be free. So be free, and make him happy in his dream bubble by letting him see how happy you can be with what he has given you.”

You turn and look up at Rosa, “Shouldn't I at least try to free the others? I should try,” you whisper, you could feel tears starting to well up again and you couldn't help noticing that you may be free, but you've never cried so much in your life.

“Now I am going to be selfish. I now have two babies and I will not risk losing either of you.” She smiles and reaches out to cradle your cheeks in her hands. That same familiar gesture Kankri used on you when he shooshed you. “You have a purpose, both of you have great purposes you must fulfill. I can feel it. You are strong, and so very precious. We may not be able to save everyone now, but you will. Someday you will free others, but right now, all we can do is hope, and survive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual each chapter is titled after a song from Muse's 2nd Law Album. However, there are two other songs hinted at within this chapter. The Beatles "All You Need is Love" and I was listening to Queen's "Somebody to Love" (Which is what tiny Signless was singing because I pictured Rosa singing it to him, I just didn't mention it by name. You can insert whatever song you would like to imagine in this case. I just figured what's a rock operetta without a little Queen.)
> 
> I also want to apologize for the length of this chapter. I may add another illustration later, but I fear that will make this longer than it should be. I already had to split 'chapter two' into two separate chapters. 'Chapter three: Save Me' will need to be split into three parts - that's how long it is.


	4. Save Me: Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be aware of violent scenes in this chapter and animal death.

 

 

            Your name is Kankri Vantas, and you are delightfully comfortable right now. You don't ever want to wake up from your peaceful sleep.  You feel warm, safe, and comfortable – well – there’s a slight cramp in your foot from walking for so long the night before, but it’s bearable.

Your small group had found a secluded cave to hide in the night before; Rosa gave in and unloaded all the clothes she had tucked away into the sylladex to create a comfy warm pile.  It’s a rare occurrence since she hates the mess and dirt all over what few belongings she has managed to scrape together for you and Mituna, but the soft pile and warmth is always welcome.

You feel the cool evening air creeping through a gap in the fabric, chilling your back. The breeze tickles up your spine, and makes you squirm closer to your gangly personal heater.

            Mituna groans and jabs you with his knee right in the gut. He probably did that because you just poked him in a ticklish spot while you attempted to snuggle closer.  His pointy knees hurt like the damn blazes when he does that, but you don’t care.  You’re not waking up.  Nope.  You are not opening your eyes.  You are still asleep.  Nope.  Nope.

            You feel him slapping at your leg, which you now realize you’ve hiked it up over his hip at some point during your sleep. He's making adorable huffing noises through his nose as he squirms. He tries to dislodge you, and wriggle out from underneath your weight, but to no avail.

All this moving around is just too much. If he keeps this up, Rosa is going to notice that you're both awake. You'll have to start another long night’s hike and you _really_ don't feel like it tonight.

            It's been about a sweep of trekking all over Alternia after you found Mituna and brought him with you.  With nowhere to go and no end goal in mind, you figure you’ve had quite enough and you want a break.  If getting this break means being deceptive, then so be it.

You squeeze him around his thorax, flip him on his back, and flop heavily on top of him.  Mituna is all elbows and sharp angles; he’s thin and lanky in comparison to your smaller but bulkier frame.  It doesn’t take much to get the best of him physically, so you lie on him like a dead hoofbeast while he wheezes.

            “K-K... Kan-kri... Wake up, a-and GET OFF,” Mituna says and desperately tries to roll you back off him.

            You make a mistake by burying your nose into his collarbone.  You're attempting to stifle the giggle that is trying to bubble up and escape.  It’s a conscious and deliberate movement; you’ve given yourself away now.  You can feel the instant change in his temperament in the way his stomach clenches and his shoulders tense.

            “You're AWAKE! Get OFF ME, you're suffocating me, asshole!” Mituna gets a skinny arm free from where it's pinned between your chests. Then he shoves your shoulder, trying to dislodge you.

            That's it.  This calls for desperate action - swift punishment. 

You inhale deeply, press your lips to his bare shoulder, and blow the queen mother grub of all raspberries into it.  Mituna bursts into a squealing, pained giggle and his struggles pick up in intensity.  You pull back and grin down at him, he's already laughing so hard he's tearing up.  While he's distracted, you pull away and move to the next target near his left grub scar.  He senses your next attack and jerks his knee up to defend himself; clocking you in the side of the head.

            “Nononononono!” He's chanting and flailing around now.

You're a bit dizzy, but you manage to snag the hem of his shirt and yank it up. You plant another raspberry in the middle of his stomach. The noise that comes out of him is something you wish you could record and keep forever.        

 “Was that a laugh or a dying skywhale?” You say between laughs.

            There’s a crackle of energy and flickering red and blue electricity surrounding you. You feel a force clamp down and lift you into the air.  His power is such a pain in the butt.  “Cheater! Using psionics is cheating!”

            Mituna sits up, still breathing heavily and trying not to giggle.  He grins at you while you're shooting him your best snarl.  He's completely unfazed by your ferocity. He rolls onto his knees and reaches up to dig horrible little claws into every sensitive spot on your sides. You burst into a fit of laughter and tears begin to roll down your face.  There’s no escape, or way to wiggle free from his invisible grip.  He’s gotten so much stronger.  Without the collar he’s been able to practice and increase his stamina.  He can easily hold you at bay for extended periods of time; he can even fly without wearing out now.

            “Alright boys, that's quite enough,” Rosa calls from the entrance of the cave.  She has an armload of dry twigs and branches, which is a sign that perhaps you are going to take a rest tonight.

            The psionic grip Mituna has on you lessens, but it doesn't let go until your feet are on the ground.  “Rosa, are we staying here tonight?”  You ask and run to her and take the bundle of wood from her arms.

            “I think so, I'm a bit tired.  I can't keep up with you two bundles of energy.” Rosa smiles at you.

            “We should go hunting then!  I thought I saw some wild woolbeast around here and we are kind of running low on food; should we go hunting, Rosa?”

            Mituna groans somewhere behind you while he’s digging through the pile of clothes you had slept on, searching for his lost pants.  Mituna sheds clothes during the night like a hiss-noodle during molting.

            “Don't be lazy! It will be fun!” you called over your shoulder at him.

            “I'm not lazy, I have a migraine,” Mituna groans again as he pulls up his pants.

            “You do not, liar. You're not even sparking,” You say and then drop the wood and start gathering up stones to save Rosa from working on a fire pit.

            “I had a vision,” Mituna says and huffs, “I woke up this evening filled with visions of the future and my future said 'damn, son, you're going to have the mother of all migraines if you go out tonight.  The following signs will lead you to this doomed foretelling:  Woolbeasts, a shaky tree, nubby horns, and a meowbeast.”

            You stand and stare at him blankly for a moment, you're not entirely sure, but you think he might be talking smack about your own dreams.  It’s the only thing you can figure with his talk about such cheesy nonsensical visions.  Sure, Mituna can get feelings about bad things that may happen, but he never received _visuals_ – at least none that you’ve ever been aware of.  “Are you making fun of me? ‘Cause I swear I'm going to make you squeal like a wriggler, I swear to the green moon I’ll kick your ass.”

            “Language,” Rosa says as she takes the stone out of your hands and continues to arrange the fire pit you forgot about.

            “Try it,” Mituna says with this stupid grin on his face and that forked tongue caught between his fangs.

            “Booooys.  Last time I checked this was a moirailship, I will have none of this black flirting under my roof,” Rosa says and then glances up at the cave walls, she sighs and then corrects herself, “my cave, it is mine while we occupy it, so my rules still apply.”

            “Yes, ma'am,” you both reply in unison.

            Mituna’s in one of his moods tonight.  One of the things you noticed after being around him for a while was this subtle shift in his temperaments - gentle and happy to ornery and depressed.  If he was sick or stressed the mood swings were considerably more noticeable, not that you really care. You adore him no matter what his mood.  However, you like to tease him and play with him, but you have to be aware of what mood he’s in and make sure you didn't overstep.

            “Come on, please.  We need something other than old bread and smoked fish and we're low on even that.  Come on, please, it would go so much faster and be so much easier on the woolbeast if you could hold it for me,” you plead.

            “Fiiine,” he says. He grumbles under his breath while he grabs his mantle and secures it around his shoulders.

            Rosa pulls your gray cloak from the mass of clothes and holds it out to you.  “I don't want you boys staying out all night.  Don't go too far, and take the sylladex with you, keep your strife deck unlocked.  I want you back here no later than midnight.”

            Dang it - you did the happy dance in a circle before you were even aware you were doing it.  Oh well, it’s not like you have to look cool in front of either of them.  You quickly snatch your cloak and reach over to hook Mituna's arm with yours.

            “Now wait, boys, listen to me,” Rosa says. She grabs your chin and makes you look up at her. It's what she always does when she wants to make sure you’re listening carefully. “I saw that woolbeast herd and it's large.  They may be docile most of the time, but in large numbers they can turn on you.  Be really careful out there and don't try anything unless you can clearly take a young one without aggravating the rest.”

            You start to reply, but she gives you that sideways glare that says ‘I am still talking, young man.’

            “If there is a lusus in the herd, do not make a move on any of the flock.  Do you understand me?”

            “Yes, mooooom,” you moan.

            “Don't you mooooom me, now scoot,” she says; swatting at your backside as you pull Mituna out of the cave.

 ----

            There's a stretch of grassland that you had walked through the night before, not far from where you had found the cave and taken shelter for the day.  You had spotted the woolbeasts roaming in a herd, but the dawn was drawing near and Rosa was getting worried that there would be no place to go to shield you and Mituna from the merciless sun rays.  There simply wasn't time to snatch dinner, and it was the least of your worries at that moment.

            Now you're hunkered down in the tall grasses, watching the herd move lazily through the tall stalks.  They were spooked when you first showed up, and a spooked woolbeast herd is not something you want to try and face, even with Mituna beside you.

            Small herds tend to flee, running blindly from danger and sometimes running themselves off the sides of cliffs or simply running until their bloodpushers give out.  It's the reason why they're known for not being the smartest creatures.   Large herds on the other hand tend to react differently to threats, especially if they either have a lusus or a very large male in their group.  They're known to gather when frightened, and they'll charge with those spiny horns and thick skulls they use like battering rams.  Nothing is more painful than catching the full ramming power of one of the larger males.  They're the same size you are and they could probably kill if they hit the right spot on a small troll.

            This doesn't even count the size and intelligence of woolbeast lusus.  You really hope the herd does not have a lusus in their presence.  Even if Rosa had not warned you to leave them if a lusus was amongst the herd, you wouldn’t have tangled with them.

            You and Mituna found a decent hidden spot up wind of them and settled in to let them calm back down.  Once they calm and don't suspect anything is stalking them, you'll look for one of the smaller ones and try to pick it off quickly and quietly.  The less stress on the herd and the beast that is unfortunate enough to be your prey the better. They may not be the smartest animals but they don't deserve to suffer.

            “There's a ram with them, and he's huge, but I think I see a little one inching away from the herd and grazing.  I think we can sneak around and get it,” You whisper.

            Mituna breathes heavily, evenly, a little too drawn out and peaceful to be a sigh of indignation.  So you lift your head up and peek over your shoulder from where you are pressed flat to the ground hiding in the foliage.

            He’s sound asleep.  He apparently rolled over onto his back to watch the stars like he usually does instead of keeping his mind on the hunt, and then the jerk went and fell asleep on you.

            You kick him in the side, and he jerks awake.  He sputters and thrashes, but you shush him a little more angrily than you mean to.

            “Come on, Mituna!  I said there's a young one on the edge of the herd, we have to go make our move or we'll be here all night,” you say; your voice low and laced with a growl.

            “Tch, fine,” Mituna mumbles and rolls over entirely too noisily and crawls a little closer to you.

            The little woolbeast lifts its head, ears trained in your direction.  You could see even from this distance how its nose twitches searching the air for a scent, any sort of warning.  It’s on alert; you can’t make the move now.  Not without alerting the entire herd.

            “What's wrong with you tonight?” You ask quietly but you strain to keep your voice down.  Mituna gets sensitive when he's in one of these moods, he probably doesn’t need you barking at him.

            “Nothing's wrong with me, I'm fine,” Mituna says as he flops back down on the ground and rolls onto his back again.  He crosses his arms tightly over his chest, staring at the stars like he wants to blast a hole through the universe. 

            “You're not fine, something's wrong I can tell,” You say while you carefully inch away from your vantage point on the little grassy knoll.  You settle next to Mituna and wait for his answer. 

            Mituna lies still with his eyes closed, ignoring you. 

            “Mituna?”  You call his name, hoping to push him into telling you what’s wrong.  Something’s definitely wrong.  He’s been a little off for the last few nights and you’re not entirely sure you can put your finger on what’s happening. 

            He opens one eye and stares at you with this lazy mix of tired annoyance.  “What?” he groans. 

            “Did I do something?  What’s wrong?” you ask, and you can’t fight the hurt and fear that maybe you had done something recently to upset him.  You can’t think of what it was, but you must have done something. 

            Mituna’s nose turns this light shade of yellow every time he gets flustered, usually you think it’s really cute.  This time he you wonder if it’s from annoyance. 

            “No.  I’m fine.  You’re fine.  What do you mean what’s wrong, nothing’s wrong.  I’m not acting any different or anything.  **_What_**?” He says, and you wonder exactly what all the word vomit meant. 

            Now that you think about it, he’s definitely been mad at you about something.  Sure he still plays with you, you still talk together late into the morning under the clothing pile, and you still laugh and sing with him.  Lately, though, there’s been something weird happening.  You’ve caught him staring and he looks so depressed and confused – a lot like a kicked woofbeast pup.  You must have done something to hurt his feelings at some point and he’s too upset to tell you, or maybe he’s afraid you’ll get angry – or something. 

            “Well, you’ve just – I’m afraid I did something to upset you.  You’ve been kind of quiet and upset and staring at me like you want to say something, but then you don’t,” you say. 

            Mituna sputters again and his face lights up like 12th perigee eve.  “I HAVE NOT!”  He uncrossed his arms and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and snarls.  “I have a migraine!  I haven’t felt good for a few days, I’m just really tired!” 

            You sit up and carefully look him over – you must be stupid, you can see all the warning signs that he does actually have a migraine.  There are tiny arcs of power ricocheting between his horns now, and that’s a sign that the throbbing is reaching critical levels. He’s in pain and you woke him up while he was trying to shake it.  You sigh and sidle closer to him.

             “I thought you were just teasing, why didn't you tell me you really had a headache?”  You ask.

             “Because at the time I didn't have a _bad_ one,” Mituna whines and lets his arms fall bonelessly to his sides.  “I’m just really tired, my allergies are killing me, and I just got a bad feeling about today is all.”

             You reach out to touch his horns, to comfort him and try to block out some of the sensory information that can make his headache worsen, but you freeze at those last words.  “How bad?” you ask, nervous about what his answer would be. You thought it had been a joke.  That he was making fun of your visions.

             “Not _that_ bad, it's really faint. It's just an uncomfortable tickle in the back of my mind,” he replies.

             “Oh, okay then,” you say and run your fingers through his hair and lightly scratch your claws along his scalp.  “We can go back if you want, so your headache doesn't get worse.”

             Mituna closes his eyes and lightly shakes his head _no_ , but he also made no motion that he is willing to move on with the hunt either.  So you sit with him, rubbing his horns and purring at him, hoping that maybe it can lessen the tension and perhaps keep the headache at bay for a bit.

             “I had another dream, it was a bit clearer this time,” you say after some time and Mituna's eyes flutter open the moment you speak.

             “Yeah?” he asks, waiting for you to continue.

             “Yeah, they're getting clearer.  They're sticking with me now instead of, like, fogging over when I wake up. Leaving me with nothing but a faint tune.   I think I kinda feel like writing about this one.  It was so inspiring, and I can't get this one out of my head, but I can't quite think of the words just yet,” you say, trying to recall every minute detail of the dream and every note that played endlessly during it.

             “What was it about this time?  Maybe if you describe it the lyrics will follow?” Mituna asks and he sits up on his elbows, his full attention on what you were about to say.

             “Well it was kind of the same thing, but it felt more li-”

             A woolbeast let out a piercing bleat entirely too close for comfort.  Both of you drop down into the grass to hide.  You wait a moment and then carefully pick your way through the long rushes until you can see the herd again.  The little woolbeast you had been stalking earlier is just a few yards away now, far from the herd.  So far from the herd that he’s anxious and fidgety.  He isn’t grazing anymore, he’s nervously walking in the direction of the grassy knoll were the two of you are hiding.  His ears flicking back and forth trying desperately to catch any sound, it’s a confused motion, like he isn’t sure where to go and danger is all around.

             This is perfect, even if the creature got a warning bleat out to the herd they'd never be able to gather and storm the two of you before you both could escape.  Yet something felt off about the situation and Mituna's tiny tickle of doom worries you a little bit.

             You quietly pull your scythes from your strife deck and then glance back at Mituna who nods at you.  You don’t have to say anything to him, he knows.  This is the way the two of you work, you’ve been with him long enough that you work together perfectly in sync.  He'll hold the beast, you kill it quickly, and then the two of you will run with the kill before any of the other creatures can react.  It’s bloody, but it will be quick and relatively painless for the creatures. The unfortunate animal would die fast and its herd won’t chase you if they smell blood.

             Mituna suddenly stands up, blue and red psionic energy crackling in the air, his eyes glow in that eerie way they do whenever he used his power and the woolbeast lets out a strangled cry that dies quickly when it hit the ground bound by invisible tethers. You’re on your feet and ready to make the kill before it even hit the ground.

             She flies at you, or rather; she flew at the woolbeast that was suddenly yanked to the ground by invisible hands.  Her claws are extended, sharp teeth bared, and that beautiful black hair catches the moonlight and shimmers.  She moves like a shadow out of nowhere, slick grace and flashing fangs.  Her eyes are focused and hard at first, ready to kill, but when she sees you they dilate, rounded impossibly large, from the sudden shock and her ferocious beauty melts to confusion.

             You drop your scythes to keep from slicing her during the tumble you know is inevitable, and she somehow manages to pull back her claws. The two of you have a strange moment that slows to stop and you don't know why you stupidly think _'she smells nice_ ' before time speeds back up and she collides with you.  You tumble horns over heels down the other side of the hill and land in a tangle of limbs near Mituna’s feet.

             The woolbeast stands up, shakes from head to woolly tail, and then let out the most horrifying bleat that ends in a strangled scream.  It was one of the most hideous sounds you have ever heard.  Mituna’s a blur of movement; you can see him take action just over the girls shoulder as she lifts herself up from you.  He disappears over the top of the knoll and then you suddenly meet eyes with the troll girl that is glaring bloody daggers down at you.  Her cheeks puff with air and rage, and she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and bites it like she wants to tear a peace off and shake it for all she’s worth, whether it’s her own flesh or not.

             She looks like she'd prefer it was your flesh, though.

             “STUPID! What's wrong with you!?  I was stalking that beast, I separated it from the herd, and it was MY PREY!” She growls, digging claws into your shoulders and leaning closer to hiss in your face.

             You grimace at the feel of slick warm blood bubbling up under her claws where they bit clean through your cloak and dug into flesh.  You feel the sticky tracks as it starts to slide over your shoulder only to end up soaking into the fabric instead.  She’s going to see it if she pulls back her claws and looks at them.  She was going _to see_ and then she'll probably kill you.

             Maybe if you apologize quickly and offer to help her reclaim her prey, maybe she'd let go, maybe she won’t notice the color staining her claws.  Maybe she'd stay with you for a while.

             “You're pretty,” you say. 

             The girl sitting on your stomach and preparing to rip you a new protein chute twitches back, eyes wide, blinking owlishly down at you.

             What _did_ you just _say_ to her?  That was not a sorry, was it?

             A frightening noise erupts beyond the knoll, a deep resounding bleat undoubtedly from the large ram that’s guarding the flock, followed closely by a chorus of bleating shrieks rising in pitch and growing closer, the stamping and rumble of many hooves shakes the ground.  Mituna suddenly flies into view carrying the dead woolbeast with his psionics crackling around its limp form.  He has both your scythes in his hands and when he catches sight of you both still on the ground he bellows, “RUN!” and takes off at a dead sprint.

             Neither you, nor the girl, waste any more time and quickly scramble to your feet and chase after Mituna.  You can hear them as you run full tilt through the long grasses, when they see the three of you running with the kill floating along with you they let out a horrifying screech and the whole herd takes up the chase after you.

             “Keep running, don't look back!”  The girl calls as she pulls ahead of you and Mituna, leading you through the grassland in the opposite direction of the cave where you left Rosa.

             “Where are you leading us?” You somehow manage to pant out between gasping breaths.

             “My tree, it's the purrfect place to hide from them,” She says, seemingly unfazed by the break neck pace she kept.

             “Stupid girl, that's the most idiotic plan I have ever heard,” Mituna says, snarling at her back.

             “Do you have a better plan, idiot? Hmm?  I don't see you coming up with anything.  You're the reason we're in this mess you cheating descendant of a barkfiend,” She says, hissing over her shoulder at him.

             Mituna slows momentarily and then kicks off the ground allowing his psionics to lift him.  His speed never falters as he flies a few feet from the ground, the red and blue glare of his eyes bleed in streams of light as he glides. “Anything has got to be better than running us up a tree where they will keep us trapped.”

             “I-I thought the herd wouldn’t chase us if they smelled b-blood!” you say, panting hard from the exertion it takes to keep up with the other two.

             “They had a lusus with them,” both Mituna and the girl reply.

             “And this thoughtless girl wants to run us up a tree like a couple of _pussies_ ,” Mituna says, snarling at the girl running ahead.

             “They will not dare come near my den, they fear me as they should,” she says and then cackles.

             “Oh yeah, they sure seem to fear you!” Mituna snorts.

             You stumble, catching and twisting your ankle on a stupid burrowbeast's hole, but you feel the familiar prickle of Mituna's powers engulf and wrap safely around you pulling you to him before you can fall.

             “Mituna, don't push yourself,” you say, worried that he’s taking on too much between carrying you, the beast, and himself a few feet above the ground.

             “It's fine; you've seen how I've been training to get stronger.  This is nothing, don't worry,” He whispers and then speeds forwards scooping the girl up with his power making her scream and kick as she was hoisted from the ground.

             “Please, don't struggle! You'll make it harder for him,” You reach for her and grab her hand as it swings past you.  “Please, it’s okay, we won't let you fa-” she suddenly clings to you, wrapping her arms and legs around your thorax and holding on for dear life.

             “Where is this stupid tree of yours?” Mituna asks, picking up speed and pushing harder to get out of sight of the creatures you can still hear crying out from behind.

             “Straight ahead over the rise, now drop the kill!” She replies with her face buried in your shoulder and muffling her words.

             “What?!” Mituna looks down at the two of you.

             “DROP THE WOOLBEAST YOU IDIOT!!” She snarls back at him.

             “FINE!” He barks back and flings the dead woolbeast to the ground where it tumbles through the grass and skids to a stop as you fly on towards her tree.

             The tree that is now in view is a single ancient growth in the middle of grassland.  Its foliage is thick and so heavy that the limbs bow to the ground from the weight.  Mituna slows his approach, hovering before the trunk momentarily before he lifts you and the girl to one of the limbs and safely deposits the both of you on its branches.  His power flares brilliantly, his eyes flash for a moment and then he drifts further up, settling on a limb near the top of the tree where he can see the herd thundering onwards in the direction they had last seen you escape.

             “Are you okay?” you ask the girl that’s still wrapped tightly in your arms.

             “Yeah,” She replies quietly, and then her senses seem to come back to her.  She shoves you away and hops away from your proximity and lands gracefully balanced on all fours further away on the limb. “No thanks to you and your stupid psionic.” She hisses and spits up at Mituna.

             He peers down at her for a moment and then deftly flips her off with both hands.

             “Mituna!” You gasp at the gesture.

             A cry echoes through the night.  The thundering of hooves suddenly dies off and soon more cries and bleats fill the air.  You shake your head slowly, closing your eyes and turning away from the sound.  You settle within the crook of the limb and the trunk, waiting, listening to the ruckus.

             “They've stopped at the carcass,” Mituna calls down to you. “I don't think they're going to come any further.”

             “I figured that would throw them off our trail,” the girl says and decides to flop belly down onto the branch, crossing her arms and resting her head on them as she swings her legs out on either side.  “If they ever catch me with one of their kids, I just leave the body and they don't take out after me.  I can always go back and get the kill later.  Don't know why, but that's a stupid woolbeast for ya.”

             “They mourn them,” you say quietly.

             The girl lifts her head and turns to look at you.  “What do mean?”

             “They mourn their dead.  That's why they stopped when they found the body.  They are more concerned with the fallen than they are for revenge,” you answer.

             “Which is a lot more than can be said for our own _superior_ kind,” Mituna says spitefully as he climbs down the tree to the where the two of you are sitting.

             The girl rolls her eyes and huffs dramatically, “Oh please, we're the top of the food chain here.  They're here to be hunted; we're here to do the hunting. We _ARE_ superior.”

             “Your lusus should wash your mouth out,” Mituna says.

             “Oh, thank you, I'll tell her that.  Oh wait - SHE'S DEAD,” The girl snaps as she sits up, back arching and hair standing on end.

             “Oh boo-hoo, join the club,” Mituna mocks her, sneering at her as he jumps over to a branch next to yours and sinks down against the trunk.

             “Mituna, please,” You say.

             “What?” Mituna whips his attention around to you, “She's being stupid. Talking like they're the stupid animals when one of them could very easily be someone's lusus.”

             “And you're being disrespectful and it's uncalled for,” you say, lowering your voice.

             The girl lifts her head defiantly, tiny button nose in the air as she snorts, “No skin off my paws. You two are the ones getting stupid about a bunch of silly beasts that normally don't even have enough intelligence to become a lusus.  You can't start feeling sorry for your food or you don't eat.”

             “That's true, it is a natural part of life, but we don't need to be cruel about it.  They have feelings that we could learn from. So have a little pity,” you say but she suddenly snorts and laughs before you can continue.

             “Oh wow, yeah, pity the meal.  If you pity your dinner so much why don't you walk on over there and ask one of them to be your matesprite,” She says as she flops back down on the branch and stretches out.

             Mituna leans forward, a low growl rumbling in his chest, he’s ready to take her on, but you lean over and pap him on the arm.  You see a slight upward twist in the corner of his mouth and he whispers quietly, “You walked into that one.”

             “I was going to say, _for each other_ ,” you say and wait until she glances over her shoulder at you.  “We say they're below us because they are not as intelligent, they're hunted because we need food, so we do not see them as beings with feelings and lives of their own.  Yet look at them. Listen to them.  They're crying for one of their own.  We killed one of their herd _for nothing_.  It was not quick, it was not painless, and we did not carry the body away for food.  To them this was a senseless killing.  And they're coming together and mourning the loss.  These creatures that we look down on and think are lesser than us are mourning for a small one.”

             The girl slowly sits up, fiddling with the tattered edges of her dress, but she’s listening carefully despite trying to appear disinterested.

             “What I think is really sad is that I've seen trolls kill other trolls.  They called them low-blood trash.  They justified it by claiming that they're not as smart and they’re so far below them on the spectrum.  They said that he was less than they were just because of his blood.  They beat him and left him broken in the street.  Nobody helped, nobody tried to stop it.  People turned away and acted as though nothing happened at all.  It was a senseless killing just like that little woolbeast.  But nobody even mourned that troll.  Nobody gathered for him and cried for him.  They just stepped over his body and carried on with their lives,” you say, closing your eyes and trying not to think any more about what had happened the last time you went into town.

             “So how can we claim to be so superior?  Sure we're the top of the food chain because we're bigger and stronger and more intelligent, but that is the same thing that subjugglator said about _another troll_.  How can we say we're better when these little creatures have more feeling than we do?  When did we become so hardened to the fate of others?  When did we stop caring for each other?  It's a basic instinct that even a woolbeast has, but we don't have it and it's not the way things are supposed to be.”

             “You say it’s not the way it’s supposed to be, but when have we ever had anything like that?  I don't think anyone has ever cared like that, ever.  Our blood decides our fate, it always has.  How can you say that we weren't meant to be like this?”  She asks.

             “Because we _weren't_ supposed to be like _this_.  Blood is blood no matter the color, why should it matter?  Doesn't this feel wrong to you?” you reply.

             “But it's - But the Empurress-”

             “Is just like you and me.  So her blood is magenta, yet it does the same thing mine does.  It does the same thing yours does.  Why does it matter if it runs just the same?”

             “It runs a bit colder I think,” Mituna mutters.

             “Well of course it does, she's a sea troll.”  You say smiling at him.

             “That's not what I – good grief, Kankri,” Mituna says with a groan.

             The girl giggles and inches closer to you on the branch.  “So, you're saying that the caste system isn't the way we were meant to live?”

             “Yeah, I am.  You gonna report me?” You reply, grinning at her.

             “Phhht!” She bats her hand at you, “What do you think I'm out here all alone fur?  My lusus brought me out here because it was secluded and had good game.  Didn't have to worry about stupid high-bloods mucking things up.”  She was smiling but the smile fell suddenly and she looked down at her hands and began picking at the bark with her sharp claws.  “Well, didn't have to worry until the bluebloods started purging the ferals in the area.”

             “I'm sorry,” you say, and reach out to her, sliding your hand over hers.  She tenses for a moment, you can feel the way her muscles twitch and she nearly pulls her hand away, but then she doesn’t move - She stays.

             “I'm sorry too.  About the lusus stuff I said earlier,” Mituna mutters. He’s sitting with his knees drawn up to his chin, eyes closed, trying not to look at her. 

             The girl blinks at the two of you, bewildered by your actions and words.  Then she turns her hand over under yours and wraps her long fingers around your hand.  “Thank you.  But you know, what you're talking about here sounds like treason?”

             “Yeah, and my songs are blasphemous Mituna says,” You say and then lean close to her ear and whisper, “I think it's the only reason why he likes them.”

             “Is not, shut up,” Mituna sputters.

             “So, how do you know then?  How do you know this isn't the way we were meant to live?”  She asks.

             “Because it just doesn't feel right and -” you don’t say anything else for a moment.

             “And?”

             “I've had these dreams, ever since I was really little.  They used to be kind of fuzzy, but they're getting stronger, more vivid each day.  They're about a world like ours, I'm sure it IS our world.  The way it should have been.  People cared about each other, with a sort of pity that goes beyond the quadrants.  A connection shared with everyone no matter who they are. It was a world filled with love and peace.”

             She’s interested, you can tell by the way she leans a fraction closer, “This last time I saw the empress, and she wasn't anything like our empress now.  This empress was really kind, and she protected her people and encouraged them to be anything they wanted to be.  And the music! It was so beautiful.  She loved music, she didn't ban it or tell us what we could and could not sing. Sometimes I can remember some of the songs I heard-”

             “Can you sing one?” She asks.

             You feel your face heat up. On any given day, at any given moment you can easily sing any of the songs that have come to you.  You sing about this other world with every breath you take. They’re your words and dreams put to the tunes you hear playing throughout the dream bubbles you walk.  Yet, the thought of singing for her right now just made your gastric sac twist into horrible painful knots.

             “Y-yeah, I can, but do you think first you could tell me your name?” You ask.

             The girl giggles and scoots a bit closer, “My name's Meulin.  You can call me Meu if you want.  You, however -” She says turning to Mituna, “can call me Her Mighty Huntress, Oh Excellent One Far Greater Than I.”

             “Bunghole, it is then,” Mituna says with a snort.

             Meulin hisses at him, but some of the ferocity has gone. 

             “I'm Kankri, and this is Mituna,” You say.  You know she heard your names already, but it was only polite to properly introduce yourselves.

             “Tuna has a nice name,” she says, a wicked toothy grin forming on her face, “fitting for someone so smelly.”

             “Don't call me Tuna,” Mituna snarls.

             “Then call me her mighty huntress-”

             “Tuna it is,” He grumbles at her.

             Meulin cackles evilly again and then turns back to you “So, will you sing for me?”

             “I-” you say but then Mituna suddenly reaches across the small gap between you limb and his and grabs your arm.  You know he isn’t exactly fond of the other little troll, but surely he wouldn't try to keep you from telling her more about this.

             No, that's not what it is at all.  He has an alarmed posture, like he’s seeing something you cannot.  It’s something you’ve come to know as his doom senses tingling.   “Something's not right,” He says and pulls himself to his feet, climbing back up to the limb where he can see everything that is happening further out.

             “I don't hear the woolbeasts anymore,” Meulin whispers and then turns suddenly, crouching low on the branch and stalking out further on the limb so she can see as well.

             You had let your legs swing on either side of the branch while you were talking with Meulin, but now you carefully pull them up until your knees are tight against your chest.

             “Kankri,” Mituna calls down to you, he's trying to keep his voice low.  You look up at him.  “A cholar bear has scared away the herd; he's eating the woolbeast we dropped.”

             _Oh crap._

             “It's okay, he's eating so he won't pay attention to us,” Meulin whispers over her shoulder at you.

             “But the winds have changed.  We're up wind of him, he's going to smell us,” Mituna says.

             _Oh crap_.

             “I said its fine, he's got a kill right there, it might be small but he won't bother trying to hunt us down even if he smells us.  The only way he'd get it in his head to come for us is if he smelled blood and thought one of us was -” Meulin glances down at her claws, at the traces of blood dried under her nails, “wounded.”

             You reach up and grab your shoulder where she had sunk her claws in deep enough to draw blood enough that it had soaked into your cloak. “Oh, crap,” You finally voice your fear and wince at how small and pathetic you sound.

             “It's COMING!” Mituna hisses down at the two of you and both of you are already climbing further up the tree, getting as far from the ground as possible.

             “It’s big but do you think it’s lusus size?”  Meulin asks as she gets to the highest limb that could still support her weight. She then reaches down and pulls you up by the arm.

             “Big, really big.  I think it might be a rogue lusus,” Mituna replies.

             You can hear it now, the heavy steps crunching foliage and dirt beneath massive paws as the cholar bear lumbers closer.  The snorting noise it makes as it breathes sends a shiver of dread up your spine.  It’s under the tree now; it slowly circles the trunk while it lifts its nose and sniffs the air.  Meulin pushes you back against the trunk of the tree and then cuddles up close against you.  Mituna is suddenly there too, wrapping his arms around both of you and tucking his head down on her shoulder.  They are covering you, pulling into a tight shield around you, into as small a target as they can get, hoping the Cholar bear will not see.

             The Cholar bear lifts itself onto its haunches, reaching up to that first limb where you originally settled.  You could hear it snorting then the sound of its claws as it scratches at the bark and shreds it with ease.  You can swear you feel the ground shake and the tree tremble when the Bear falls heavily back to all fours and backs away from the trunk of the tree.

             The foliage of the tree is sparse down the middle where the limbs all jut from the trunk.  There is nothing to hide you from view if something is right near the base of the tree.  You lean over, slowly, and carefully peer down at the Cholar Bear below.

             It’s staring right at your tight little huddle.  He knows you’re there, and he knows you’re hurt in some way; he isn’t going to stop until he has all of you.  You can’t escape even if Mituna can fly the three of you away, the bear had your scent and he'd stalk you to the cave and Rosa would end up hurt too.  There’s nothing you can think of to do.   He's a lusus after all and they're far stronger, bigger and considerably more intelligent than the average bear.

             He lifts up on his haunches again and roars up at your small group.  You feel Meulin tremble and Mituna squeeze the two of you tighter.  They’re preparing for something-

             The Bear shoves the trunk of the tree, violently rattling it, nearly shaking the three of you off the high branch.  Meulin lets out a squeal before she can stop it and Mituna tries to grasp the trunk behind the two of you and keep you both secure.  Another shaking blow and you hear wood straining.  A third blow and the bear grunts up at you as he steps back and shoves with all his might against the trunk.  The tree trembles and groans under the force, you can hear something splintering deep within it’s trunk as it starts to give.

             “My tree is old, it can't take this trauma, its roots are not as strong as they used to be and the leaves are already too much for it to hold up.  It's going to fall at any moment,” Meulin says and then shifts so she can look Mituna in the eye, “Psionic, will you catch us when it falls?”

             “Trust me,” he replies.

             “When my tree falls, do not fly with us.  It will come for us no matter where we try to hide, it has our scent now.  The moment the tree falls let me go,” She says.

             “What?  Why?” Mituna asks.

             “Anything that dares to attack me in my lair becomes my prey,” She hisses.

             The tree lets out a final groan of protest, the roots rip from the soil, the trunk strains and tilts to the side pitching forward and nearly shaking you from its boughs before it finally gives up and falls with a deafening thump and a cloud of dirt.  Mituna catches both you and Meu with his psionics, pulling away from the tree just before it gives in.  He quickly lands a few feet from the fallen tree and Meulin transforms into a furious blur of motion the moment her feet hit the ground.  She charges the cholar bear with long claw blades drawn.

             The bear had fallen to all four feet when the tree gave way, he turns to rush the three of you the moment he catches sight.  He swings his head from side to side and snaps his jaws menacingly, until he catches sight of Meulin as she flies at him.  He’s too slow to react and she sinks her claw weapons into his flank and yanks them out again before scrambling up his back where she can sink them into his neck.  She hangs on ferociously as he thrashes and roars beneath her.

             “Mituna we have to help her!” You start to go to her, but he pulls you back, “Do something! It's going to kill her!”

             Mituna shushes you and holds you so you can’t twist away from his grip, “Give her a moment.”

             The cholar bear rolls, dragging Meulin through the dirt trying to dislodge her from its back.  She hisses and spits, clawing and ripping into its neck.  Blood stains the lusus' white fur, spattering against Meu’s face but she never lets go, instead she tears further into the flesh; ripping at anything she can get her claws on.

             The bear rolls again, pinching her, the weight of the bear crushes her and makes her cry out in pain.  It throws her off and while it scrabbles in the dirt to try and get back on its feet, she jumps to her feet in an instant and lunges for its head swiping her claws up the left side of its face and taking its eye.  She runs a safe distance from its massive paws at it swipes at the air, blindly trying to catch her. The enraged roar from the creature seems to shake the ground under your feet.

             A split second later she’s circling the bear that is now furious, it swings for her the moment it catches sight of her with its good eye.  It nearly has her with its claws but something violently jerks the bear's paw back, energy crackles and sparks around its massive paw.  Meulin quickly darts to the bear's blind side and lunges for it again, landing on its back sinking her claws into its neck once more.  It roars, lifting itself up on its haunches, readying to throw itself backwards and crush her.  She reaches around and swiped her claws across its neck, a clean deep cut that transforms the roar into a sputtering gurgle that sprays the ground with blood.

             The bear falters, and then falls heavily to the ground.

             Meulin crouches on all fours on top of the massive beast then she lifts her blood stained face to the moons and laughs.  She’s truly a frightening and feral beauty.

 

            -----------

 

            “Rosa, um, we're back. Rosa?” you call from the mouth of the cave; you can see Rosa is sitting near the firelight mending clothes.  She sets aside her sewing and stands up, dusting off her dress as she walks over to you.  Her eyes need to adjust from the bright fire light to soft moonlight; you’re waiting for the boot to drop with each step closer.

            “I thought I told you boys no later than midnight,” She chastises you and then her face goes pale and glowing the moment she catches sight of all the blood.

            Meulin lifts up your bloody cloak wrapped around a massive hunk of meat, “We tore off the best parts and brought them!  He captalogued the other good bits but there wasn't room for this and this is like the **_best_** part.”

            “It's gross Meu,” you whisper.

            “Hearts are gooooood,” she states.

            Mituna drops his unstained cloak on the ground; he’s probably the only clean one out of all of you.  He stumbles past Rosa, pathetically chanting, “My head hurts so much... It’s killing me.”

            “W-what in the name of Alternia’s moons?  All this blood?!”  Rosa gasps.

            “Don't worry about the blood; I just killed a cholar bear, so I don't think anything will dare mess with me! I'll protect you all.  I'll kill anything that comes here.”

            “A-A Cholar b-bear?” Rosa asks and then she passes out.

 

            -------------------

 

            Rosa will be absolutely furious with all of you when she comes to. 

            Mituna pushes aside his migraine long enough to use his powers to pick her up and carry her to the pile.  He carefully sets her down and tries to drag one of the blankets over her before he crumples.  He plunks down beside her and lets out a strangled cry as he clutches the sides of his head.  It must be so painful.  His migraines can get bad, but if he keeps forcing himself to use his powers they can become excruciating.  He told you once that when they got that bad it felt like his think pan was hammering away at the inside of his skull in an attempt to escape.  The throbbing only grows in intensity and he can’t control the pained sounds he makes or even think clearly. Usually he just throws up and curls into a whimpering ball of agony for hours - if not days.

            Rosa begins to stir, letting out a little moan of protest, probably in response to Mituna’s pain. You throw the spare cloaks Rosa keeps around for emergencies over her and then run. 

            “Stop. Right. There,” Rosa commands and you halt dead in your tracks at the mouth of the cave.

            Mituna is on his feet and running a second later, but nobody stops him because the horrible retching noise that echoes back the moment he’s outside is explanation enough.

            You wince at the sound of Mituna getting sick, and then you wince again when Rosa snaps her fingers and points for you to come and sit back down right this minute - which you do.  You quickly come back and hunker down next to the pile.  She looks over at Meu, “You too, child.  Come here, I want a thorough explanation of what has happened this night.”

            Meulin hesitates until you turn and hold your hand out to her.  She looks between the two of you and then slowly slinks over and takes your hand, squatting down next to you.  “Meu, this is my lusus, Dolorosa.  Rosa this is Meulin.  We met this evening when I tried to catch one of the woolbeasts.” 

            Meu wiggles her fingers in a timid wave at Rosa, all her spark and vigor gone with her nerves.

            “Please tell me how hunting woolbeasts turned into hunting a Cholar Bear?”  Rosa asks, worry lines creasing her beautiful face.

            You end up relaying the whole story to her, leaving out the internal dialogue you had going on about how pretty Meulin is.  Still, you think Rosa knows; she always knows everything about you.  She listens to you, her hand covering her mouth to hide the gasps she keeps making at some of the more intense scenes.  Meu interjected with hunting and stalking details.  You hadn't really known that the bear would have kept after you until Meu explained it in detail.  Which, she may have gotten a little _too_ detailed.  Rosa didn't exactly need to know the thrill of the kill in vivid glory.

            “Okay, oh my, okay.” Rosa is speechless, you can see she’s trying to find something to say but she can’t come up with anything.  She then decides it’s better to take action than to try and talk about it, “Kankri, go bring Mituna back inside.  He doesn't need to be out in the light like that.”

            You nod and get up, you pause at the mouth of the cave and glanced back in time to see Rosa wrap her arms around Meulin and you hear her chanting ‘thank you’ before she breaks down in tears.

            You pick up Mituna's cloak where he dropped it earlier and find him just outside the cave hugging his knees and crying, or trying not to cry and failing miserably.

            “Mituna,” you call and settle next to him, shushing him, rubbing his back as you slide closer beside him. “You’re going to make it worse, shhhh calm down.”

            “It can't GET any WORSE,” he sobs and you can see his eyes rapidly flickering dim and bright, red and blue.  You've never seen that before, you've seen his horns spark the way they're doing now but you've never seen anything like this.

            You pull his cloak over his shoulders and pull the hood down over his head in an attempt to block out some of the light.  Then you drag him to his feet and lead him back into the cave. 

            Meulin darts past you, all smiles and fangs, “I'm going to get some water!” she sings out while carrying two pouches.

            You nod at her and then bump Mituna's forehead with yours, “Come on, I'll make you a pile in the back where it's dark.  You'll feel better soon.”

            Rosa has already beaten you to it; she gathered all the clothes and piled it up as far back in the shadows as she could get them.  You tuck Mituna in, making sure he’s as comfortable as he can be and then you tiptoe back to Rosa. She’s preparing the meat Meu brought back to be cooked.

            “Rosa, that tree that the bear knocked down was Moulin’s home.  Do you think we – can she – would it be okay if she stayed with us?”  You ask, fidgeting from one foot to the other.

            “Actually, she told me she lived in numerous caves around here as well.  This being one of them, so technically _we_ are the guests in _her_ home,” Rosa says but she then smiles, “Of course she can come with us.  I've already told her she can come with us and she said she wanted to, so all of that is settled.”

            You fling your arms around Rosa and she laughs.  “You are absolutely filthy; take those clothes off right now.  Meu said there was a stream near here, I'm going to have to take you both down there and scrub you within an inch of your lives.  Now, go... take those off.  Wash your face off, there's a water pouch in your sylladex, go on!”

            You do as you are told, pulling off all the nasty blood stained clothes and slipping on a loose shirt, scrubbing as much of the blood off as you can, and then soaking a rag with the rest of the water .  You wave it in the air until it feels cool and then you sneak back to the pile and burrow into it with Mituna.  He whimpers and turns over burying his face against your chest while you fold and press the damp cloth against the back of his neck.  You ignore the light stinging and flickering energy bouncing off his horns and nuzzle the top of his head.

            You stay with him even after Meulin returns with more water.  You idly listen to her and Rosa talking, already bonding over the meal that is cooking.  You aren't really paying attention, even as you rub Mituna's back and work to calm him – you’re busy thinking about everything that had happened, and how different things are going to be from now on.  You end up dozing off thinking about how happy you are now that you have more family surrounding you.

 


End file.
